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TREATISE ON LANGUAGE 



RELATION WHICH WORDS BEAR TO THINGS 



IN FOUR PARTS. 



BY A. B. JOHNSON. 






NEW YORK. 
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS. 



1836. V 



1* 



\ 



Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight 
hundred and thirty-six, by Harper & Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the 
District Court of the United States, for the Southern District of New- York. 



£7?^ 



HENRY W. REES, STEREOTYPE*., 
45 GOLD STREET, NEW-YORK. 



U) 



PREFACE 



In 1828 the following work was first published, It was enti- 
tled " The Philosophy of Human Knowledge, or, A Treatise on 
Language ;" and was the first part of a series of experimental 
investigations which were to include language, physical actions, 
thoughts, and feelings. The publication of 1828 was limited 
to the investigation of language ; and as the present publication 
possesses the same limitation, and the other topicks, though in 
progress, may never be completed, the first half of the original 
title is omitted, and the present publication is designated A 
Treatise on Language. 

Except many gratifying letters received by me from strangers 
in various states of our Union, and one extensive review, the 
preceding edition of this work excited no attention. The edi- 
tion has, however, been long since absorbed spontaneously by 
the publick, and I have received repeated applications for 
further copies. 

The form of lectures to which the preceding work was sub- 
jected, has been retained as a means of lessening the natural 
wearisomeness of instruction. In other respects, the work -has 
been newly arranged and simplified. The present edition con- 
tains also much that is not in the former ; yet the lectures are 
still little more than heads of discourses. They are sufficient 
to indicate my views of language ; while persons who shall 
accord with me in these views, will readily discover new illus- 
trations of the rules which I have given, and new rules for 



IV PREFACE. 

verbal positions to which I have not adverted. Indeed, all 
that the book contains is the elucidation of but one precept : 
namely, to interpret language by nature. We reverse the rule 
and interpret nature by language. The precept itself which 
I have sought to illustrate, I profoundly respect ; but whether 
I have demonstrated its importance, the publick must deter- 
mine. Amid active and extensive employments, and with no 
external stimulus to literary pursuits, I shall be satisfied if the 
succeeding discourses shall commend the doctrine to the efforts 
of men whose understandings are more comprehensive than 
mine, and whose labours the world is accustomed to respect. 
As, however, the following sheets are the painful elaboration 
of many years, when my language or positions shall, in a 
casual perusal, seem absurd, (and such cases may be frequent,) 
I request the reader to seek some more creditable interpre- 
tation. The best which he can conceive should be assumed 
to be my intention : as on an escutcheon, when a figure resem- 
bles both an eagle and a buzzard, heraldry decides that the 
bird which is most creditable to the bearer, shall be deemed 
to be the one intended by the blazon. 

THE AUTHOR. 



V 



CONTENTS 



LECTURE I.— Introductory 33 

Section 1. — To know the extent of our powers will save us from, 
impracticable pursuits . . . .... .33 

Section 2. — We are in little danger from the pursuit of physical 
impracticabilities . . . . . . . . .33 

Section 3. — We are in danger of wasting time in verbal investi- 
gations , , 34 

Section 4. — To ascertain the capacity that language possesses for 
discoursing of external existences which our senses cannot 
discover, will enable us, more understanding^ than at present, 
to estimate theories 34 

Section 5. — No knowledge is more important than a correct 
appreciation of language 34 

Section 6. — Verbal discourse contains defects which have escaped 
detection 35 

Section 7. — Significant verbal inquisition is not unlimited . . 35 

Section 8. — Language may be formed into propositions whose 
results, though incontrovertible by logick, are irreconcileable 
with our senses ... 33 

Section 9. — The verbal defects which these discourses will dis- 
cuss, are inseparable from language, and differ from any defects 
that you may anticipate 37 

Section 12. — These discourses concern not the relative meaning 
which words bear to each other, but the relation which words 
bear to created existences 38 

Section 13. — We translate sensible existences into words, instead 
of interpreting words by the information of our senses . . 38 

Section 14. — We must make our senses the expositors of words, 
instead of making words the expositors of what our senses 
reveal 38 

Section 15. — To understand these discourses, a slight perusal of 
detached parts, or of the whole, will be insufficient ... 39 



VI CONTENTS, 

PART FIRST, 

OF LANGUAGE WITH REFERENCE TO EXISTENCES WHICH ARE 
EXTERNAL OF MAN. 

LECTURE II. — External sensible existences are susceptible 

OP A CLASSIFICATION WHICH SHALL REFER EACH EXISTENCE TO THE 
SENSE THROUGH WHOSE AGENCY WE ACQUIRE OUR KNOWLEDGE OF 
THE EXISTENCE . 43 

Section 4. — To understand the relation which words bear to 
created existences, we must contemplate creation apart from 
words 43 

Section 5. — The external universe may be divided into sights, 
sounds, tastes, feels, and smells 44 

Section 6. — Sights, feels, &c, are presented to us by nature in 
certain groups 44 

Section 7. — Sights and feels are the most frequently associated 44 

Section 8. — Sights, feels, tastes, and smells, are frequently asso- 
ciated 45 

Section 10. — Sights, sounds, tastes, feels, and smells, nature 
sometimes presents singly to us 45 

Section 11. — We must discriminate between the extent and va- 
riety of creation and the paucity of language . . . .45 

Section 13. — Tastes, smells, sounds, and feels, are seldom desig- 
nated specifically by names 46 

Section 14. — We create names when we deem them useful . 46 

Action 15. — The associations of nature are sometimes separable 47 

Section 16.— Feels can also be separated from the sights with 
which they are naturally associated 47 

Section 17. — Painting, slight of hand, natural magick, &c, con- 
sist in the separation, either artificially or spontaneously, of the 
sensible existences which nature usually associates . . .47 

Section 18. — When we see a sight, experience alone induces us 
to expect that it is associated with a feel . . . . .48 

Section 19. — When we perceive a feel, experience alone induces 
us to expect that it is associated with a sight . . . .49 

Section 20. — Language refers to the groups which nature presents 
to us, and not to the individual phenomena of any group . . 49 

Section 21. — Words are confounded with things . . . .50 

Section 22. — We should endeavour to regard words as merely the 
names of things 50 

LECTURE III. — Language implies a oneness to which nature 

CONFORMS NOT IN ALL CASES 52 

Section 1. — The existence which we name a shadow, possesses 
more natural oneness than the existence which we name gold 52 



CONTENTS. Vll 

Section 2. — The oneness of natural existences must not be inter- 
preted by their names, but by our senses 52 

Section 3. — We must subordinate language to what we discover 
in nature 53 

Section 4. — Verbally, the oneness of every existence is equally 
simple, but the natural oneness varies in different existences . 53 

Section 5. — In all our speculations, we estimate created exist- 
ences by the oneness of their name 54 

Section 6.— Because nature exhibits not the oneness which we 
find in language, we impute the discrepancy to a fallacy of nature, 
instead of knowing that it is simply a provision of language . 54 

Section 7. — Instead of employing our experience to teach us that 
the oneness of language is fallacious, we employ it to show that 
the duality of nature is fallacious 55 

Section 8. — We make language the expositor of nature, instead 
of making nature the expositor of language . . . .55 

Section 9.— -We invent theories to reconcile the duality of nature 
to the oneness of language . . . . . . .55 

Section 10. — To assert that distance is invisible, is only an enig- 
matical mode of relating the simple fact, that seeing cannot 
reveal to us a feel 57 

Section 11. — Whether seeing can or not inform us of an external 
universe, depends on the meaning which we attach to the word 
external. The question relates to language, and not to nature 57 

Section 12. — Estimating nature by the oneness of language is a 
fallacy \* hich enters deeply into every system of philosophy . 58 

LECTURE IV. — The oneness implied by language affects not 

ONLY METAPHYSICAL DISQUISITIONS, BUT PHYSICAL SPECULATIONS . 59 

Section 1. — When a word names the phenomena of two or more 
senses, the oneness of the name is peculiarly embarrassing 59 

Section 3. — We seek in nature for a unit which exists in language 
only 59 

Section 4. — Groups of natural existences and relations may be 
deemed units, but we must estimate their oneness by our sensi- 
ble experience, and not by the implication of language ; nature 
being no party to our language . . . . . . • 60 

Section 5. — The oneness of nature is different in different cases, 
but the oneness which language implies is always complete . 60 

Section 7. — The particulars which we can discover in nature, are 
all which truly pertain to nature 61 

Section 9. — Medical science is probably embarrassed by our im- 
puting to diseases and their incidents, the oneness which per- 
tains to their names only 62 

Section 11. — Our moral speculations also are embarrassed by 
imputing to nature the oneness which exists in language only 63 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

Section 16. — Some units are a sensible aggregation, and some 3 
verbal aggregation . . . . . . . . .84 

Section 17. — We invent theories to supply the unit which we sup- 
pose must exist, but which we fail from finding in nature . 64 

LECTURE V. — Language implies identities to which nature 

CONFORMS NOT ... 66 

Section 2. — Language is a collection of general terms, but crea- 
tion is a congregation of individual existences . . . .66 

Section 3. — We interpret the identity of existences by the iden- 
tity of their name 66 

Section 4. — The identity which language implies has embarrassed 
medicine ... 67 

Section 5.— Individuality is characteristick of nature . . .67 

Section 7. — The identity which language implies is always com- 
plete, but nature approximates in various degrees only to a per- 
fect identity 68 

Section 10. — We should not confound the verbal identity with 
the realities of nature 68 

Section 11. — Failing to discover in nature the identity which 
language implies, but believing that it mus>t, exist somewhere in 
nature, we mistake it for a mysterious property of creation . 68 

Section 12. — We transfer to nature the generalization which be- 
longs to language . • . 69 

Section 13. — The diversity which we discover among natural 
objects, &c, that possess the same name, should teach us to 
correct the identity implied by their name ; but we employ the 
verbal identity to excite wonder at the natural diversity . . 69 

Section 16. — Language, in its ability to designate individual exist- 
ences, is like colours in their ability to depict the variety of 
nature . 70 

Section 19. — Verbal disquisitions will be erroneous till we cease 
from imputing to nature the identities which belong to language 71 

Section 20. — The meaning of the word identity varies with the 
object to which it is applied 71 

Section 21. — We subordinate nature to language, instead of sub- 
ordinating language to nature 72 

Section 22. — No two existences are as identical in nature as in 
name 72 

Section 23.— The identity which language implies is the expe- 
dient by which a finite language comprehends an infinitely 
diverse creation .72 

Section 24. — Imputing to nature the identity which exists in lan- 
guage, causes much fallacious speculation ~ ■ . . . .73 
Section 33. — Estimating nature by the identities of language 
misleads us in natural history, geography, &c. . . . .75 



CONTENTS. IX 

Section 35. — Two men, who assent to the same general proposi- 
tion, may possess very diverse meanings 76 

Section 36. — Our expressions are often identical, when our mean- 
ings are diverse . . . -'' 76 

Section 37. — Estimating thoughts by the identity which their 
name implies, has prevented us from noting the natural diver- 
sity which thoughts exhibit 76 

Section 38. — Thoughts are divisible into six different classes . 77 

Section 39. — One class of thoughts are words . . . .77 

Section 41. — In the production of verbal thoughts, an agency of 
the organs of speech is discoverable . . . .77 

Section 42. — Verbal thoughts are limited, like audible words, to 
a consecutive formation . . . . ' . . . .78 

Section 43. — The identity which exists between verbal thoughts 
and mere words, is closer than the generality of identities . 78 

Section 44. — One class of thoughts is characteristically sights . 78 

Section 45. — The remaining four classes of thoughts are cha- 
racteristically sounds, tastes, feels, and smells . . . .79 

Section 46. — The thoughts which I class as smells, possess the 
limitation that pertains to the perception of odours . . .79 

Section 47. — Tastes possess in thought the singleness which 
attends the reception of tastes . . 79 

Section 48. — The recollection of sounds differs from the recollec- 
tion of articulations 79 

Section 49. — We construe nature by the forms of language, 
instead of construing language by the revelations of nature . 80 

Section 50. — Dumb mutes possess neither verbal thoughts nor 
auricular thoughts 80 

Section 51. — To acquire a written language will not give the 
dumb verbal thoughts . 80 

Section 52. — Infants possess no verbal thoughts . . . .81 

Section 53. — A paralysis of the tongue impedes verbal thinking 81 

Section 54. — Practically, we are well aware of the difference 
which exists in the nature of our thoughts . . . .81 

LECTURE VI. — Words can be divested of signification, and still 
formed into propositions which will not be obviously futile 83 

Section 1. — Words can be divested of their sensible signification 84 

Section 7. — We are vigilant in detecting verbal contradictions, 
but we never detect the sensible contradiction which exists in 
affirming the presence of sensible existences, where none are 
discoverable by the senses . 85 

Section 8.— Words, divested of signification^ may still be em- 
ployed in all the processes of logick 85 

Section 13. — Words divested of signification may still be em- 
ployed in the problems and demonstrations of mathematicks . 87 

2 



X CONTENTS. 

Section 16. — The fallacy enters largely into the speculations of 
every department of philosophy 88 

Section 20. — Theoretical causes are frequently nothing but 
words divested of their sensible signification .... 90 

Section 22. — When we subtract from a word its sensible signifi- 
cation, the word returns, (so far as relates to the external uni- 
verse,) to the pristine insignificance which the word possessed, 
before it was applied to the purposes of language ... 90 

Section 24. — The law of nature, which makes the word scarlet 
insignificant to the blind, makes all words insignificant when 
they attempt to name external existences which our senses 
cannot discover 91 

Section 26. — We can no more subtract from an external exist- 
ence its sensible qualities, and leave a subsisting reality, than 
we can subtract all sensible qualities from an orange, and leave 
a fruit . 91 

Section 27. — When the word cause is used significantly, it re- 
fers to a sensible existence 92 

Section 29. — An ignorance of the limitation which nature has 
formed to the signification of language, is in no instance so 
productive of erroneous speculation, as in its application to 
the word cause 92 

Section 36. — Theories are useful, but we need not confound 
them with the sensible realities of creation .... 94 

Section 38. — The principles of this lecture are correct, though 
some of my illustrations may be deemed incorrect . . 95 

LECTURE VII. — The meaning of a word varies with its appli- 
cation 96 

Section 1. — Words may be compared to a mirror. It is natu- 
rally void, and varies its representations as you vary the object 
which is placed before it ....:... 96 

Section 2. — Words signify the objects to which they are applied 97 

Section 3. — Every word is a general term, and applies to a mul- 
titude of diverse existences 97 

Section 4.— We attribute to nature the generality which belongs 
to language 98 

Section 5. — Instead of qualifying the meaning of a word by the 
existence to which we apply the word, we estimate the exist- 
ence by the word 98 

Section 7. — We must resort to our senses for the sensible mean- 
ing of a word, and not to a dictionary 100 

Section 8. — We must discriminate between the question which 
relates to the appropriateness of a word, and its signification 100 

Section 9. — Interpreting nature by language enables us to com- 
municate an artificial interest to scientifick experiments . 101 



CONTENTS. XI 

Section 10.— -The language in which every experiment is an- 
nounced must be interpreted by the experiment. We must 
not interpret the experiment by the language . » ■. .101 

Section 15. — Interpreting nature by language enables us to very 
insidiously excite admiration . .* . . . . 102 

Section 17. — Interpreting nature by language enables us to both 
artificially exalt and degrade sensible information . . . 103 

Section 20. — The sensible realities to which words refer, and 
which alone give words a sensible signification, are not affected 
by our phraseology 105 

Section 21. — Philosophy often expends itself in a contest about 
phraseology, from not knowing that the meaning of words is 
controlled by the sensible existences to which the words refer 105 

LECTURE VIIL— Every general proposition possesses as many 

SIGNIFICATIONS AS IT POSSESSES REFERENCE TO DIFFERENT PAR- 
TICULARS . . 107 

Section 2. — Every proposition signifies some particular that the 
speaker refers to ; but the proposition is interpreted by some^- 
thing that the hearer refers to . * . . . . 107 

Section 3. — One particular may constitute the meaning of nu- 
merous propositions 108 

Section 4. — General propositions produce often an apparent con- 
flict of opinion where no disagreement exists . . .108 

Section 5. — Propositions possess not always a determinate 
meaning . . . . » k . , . . » 108 

Section 6. — We often involve our actions in general propositions 109 

Section 8. — Universal gravitation signifies the particulars only 
to which it refers 109 

Section 9. — The sphericity and motions, &c, of the earth, sig- 
nify the phenomena only to which the propositions refer . 110 

Section 10.— "Till we know the particulars to which a proposi- 
tion refers, its meaning is unknown to us . . . .111 

Section 11. — Ignorance of the true method of interpreting pro- 
positions causes controversy * HI 

Section 12. — Medical science has suffered by a misconstruction 

. of general propositions » , . .112 

Section 13. — The illustrations of a general proposition consti- 
tute often all its meaning . . .',-.'■. . . .112 

Section 14. — Conflicting general propositions often harmonize 
when we know the particulars to which they refer . .112 

Section 16. — No general proposition is significant of more than 
certain particulars .113 

Section 18. — We should never contest general propositions, but 
the particulars to which the propositions refer. Men cannot 
be forced to adopt but one phraseology 114 



XII CONTENTS. 

Section 20. — Nearly every proposition is true when interpreted 
as the speaker interprets it. This results from the nature of 
language, and not from conventional agreement . . .114 

Section 22. — General propositions are unintelligible till resolved 
into some known particulars 115 

Section 25. — Some writers commit a species of tautology, by 
involving in general propositions the facts which they subse- 
quently particularize . .116 

Section 31. — General propositions bring often unmerited honour 
on their authors 118 

Section 34. — We must interpret every general proposition by 
the particulars to which it refers ; and not interpret the par- 
ticulars by the general proposition 118 

Section 36. — Some sensible particulars imply others, by virtue 
of our experience 119 

LECTURE IX. — When the negation of a proposition refers 

TO NO PARTICULAR, THE NEGATION IS INSIGNIFICANT ; AND THE PRO- 
POSITION POSSESSES AN UNLIMITED AFFIRMATION, WHICH MAKES THE 
PROPOSITION SEEM TO SIGNIFY MORE THAN A LIMITED NUMBER OF 
PARTICULARS .......... 121 

Section 1. — That the sensible signification of a general proposi- 
tion is limited to the sensible particulars to which the proposi- 
tion refers, proceeds from nature and not from convention . 121 

Section 2. — Affirmative propositions possess a universal appli- 
cation, when the negation of their universality refers to no 
sensible particular ......... 121 

Section 3. — Uninterrupted experience excites a feeling of ex- 
pectation which enters into the meaning of some propositions 
that allude to futurity 122 

Section 4. — A universal proposition that speaks of futurity, 
cannot be invalidated by a negation that refers to no sensible 
particular * 122 

Section 5. — If a negation refers to no sensible particular, the 
negation is insignificant 122 

Section 6. — All affirmations and all negations refer for significa- 
tion to our experience 123 

Section 7.— Propositions are neither significant nor insignificant, 
but as they refer to our sensible experience .... 123 

Section 8. — Though the absence of a sensible negative will 
make an affirmative proposition universal in its meaning, yet 
the affirmative proposition will signify the sensible particulars 
only to which it refers 123 

Section 9. — The universality of a proposition relates to the ab- 
sence of a sensible negative particular, and not the number of 
the affirmative particulars . . . . . . 124 



CONTENTS. Xill 

Section 10. — Many scientific!?: propositions owe their propriety to 
the absence of a sensible negative 124 

Section 12. — A doubt or salvo which refers to nothing sensible, 
is verbal only and sensibly insignificant 125 

LECTURE X.— Language can effect no more than refer us to 

THE INFORMATION OF OUR SENSES ...... 126 

Section 1.— Words can supply the place of no sense. They 
can simply refer us to what our senses have disclosed . . 127 

Section 2. — No sight which I have not seen, can be revealed to 
me by words 127 

Section 5. — Pictures can reveal no sight but themselves . . 128 

Section 6. — No taste which I have not experienced, can be made 
known to me 129 

Section 7. — No sound which I have not heard, can be made 
known to me 129 

Section 8. — Brilliancy of imagination and acuteness of intellect 
cannot perform the office of any of our senses . . . 129 

Section 9. — No feel which I have not felt, can be known to me 130 

Section 10. — No muscular effort which I have not experienced, 
can be made known to me by language 130 

Section 11. — Nearly every word possesses a verbal meaning as 
well as a sensible meaning 130 

Section 12. — The sensible signification of a word nothing can 
reveal but our senses; — the verbal signification can be dis- 
closed by words . 131 

Section 13. — We rarely discriminate between the verbal signifi- 
cation of a word and its sensible signification . . .131 

Section 14. — Words and definitions can disclose only the verbal 
meaning of words 132 

Section 18. — A knowledge of the two-fold character of words 
useful in the instruction of deaf mutes . . . . .133 



XIV CONTENTS, 



PART SECOND. 

OF LANGUAGE WITH REFERENCE TO PHENOMENA INTERNAL OF 

MAN. 

LECTURE XL — To make all language refer to sensible in- 
formation, FORCES US TO ESTIMATE, AS SENSIBLE INFORMATION, 
SOME INTERNAL PHENOMENA "WHICH ENTER LARGELY INTO THE SIG- 
NIFICATION OF WORDS, AND ARE NOT USUALLY INCLUDED AMONG 
SENSIBLE INFORMATION. WORDS ALSO ENTER LARGELY INTO THE 
SIGNIFICATION OF OTHER WORDS . . . . . . .137 

Section 1. — Language refers to our internal feelings . . . 137 

Section 2. — Language would lose a large portion of its mean- 
ing, to a person destitute of internal feelings . . . 137 

Section 3. — Internal feelings enter largely into the signification 
of words that relate to religion 138 

Section 5. — Religious feelings seem a part of the human consti- 
tution, like hope, fear, &c ....... 138 

Section 6. — Religion, from its connexion with our internal feel- 
ings, is but little affected by adverse logick . . . .139 

Section 7. — Internal feelings enter largely into words that are 
not religious 139 

Section 8. — The whole universe can be nominally analyzed into 
sights, sounds, tastes, feels, smells, internal feelings, thoughts, 
and words 139 

Section 9. — Our analysis is artificial ; the universe can be cor- 
rectly expounded by itself alone ...... 140 

Section 10. — Words that refer to our internal feelings are sub- 
ject to all the rules of interpretation which are enumerated in 
the preceding lectures 140 

Section 11.— The identity of love is as fallacious as its oneness 141 

Section 12. — We subject our internal feelings to fewer verbal 
distinctions than our sensible information .... 141 

Section 13.— Language is significant of what our senses inform 
us of, what we are conscious of experiencing within ourselves, 
and of words . . . . . . . . . . 142 

Section 14. — Words are significant of other words . . . 142 

Section 15. — A word which at one time signifies a word, may, 
at another time, signify a sight, &c. ..... 143 

Section 16. — Some words never signify any thing but other 
words 143 

Section 17. — Some words of the above class, when connected 
with an internal feeling, are of the most sacred character . 143 



CONTENTS. XV 

Section 19. — The present lecture is only introductory to suc- 
ceeding ones, which will show that speculative writers fail to 
discriminate between the verbal signification of a word, — its 
sensible signification, — and its signification with reference to 
our internal feelings. They deem the variety of meaning a 
duplicity of nature, instead of a property of language . . 144 

LECTURE XII. — Much errour occurs in our speculations 

WHEN WE OMIT TO DISCRIMINATE BETWEEN THE VERBAL MEANING 
OF A WORD, ITS SENSIBLE MEANING, AND ITS MEANING THAT REFERS 
TO OUR INTERNAL CONSCIOUSNESS 145 

Section 1. — We should discriminate between the verbal signifi- 
cation of a word, and the sensible signification . . . 145 

Section 2. — The senses alone can reveal to us the sensible sig- 
nification of words 145 

Section 3. — Words can yield us nothing but the verbal significa- 
tion of words : 146 

Section 4. — We strangely confound the verbal signification of a 
word with the sensible signification 146 

Section 5. — The sensible signification of a sentence is the sen- 
sible existence to which the sentence refers . . . .147 

Section 6. — Phraseology is controlled by custom, but the sensi- 
ble signification of phrases is controlled by nature . . 147 

Section 8. — We cannot transmute sights, feels, &c, into words 148 

Section 10. — Logick relates to the verbal meaning of words, 
and its conclusions must not be confounded with sensible 
existences 148 

Section 14. — We cannot enlarge our sensible knowledge by 
words 150 

Section 15. — Sensible existences will not conform to our phrase- 
ology, but our phrases will signify the sensible existences to 
which the phrases refer 150 

Section 16. — We must refer to the revelation of our senses for 
the meaning of words, and not refer to words for the meaning 
of what our senses reveal 151 

Section 17. — All that my senses disclose, and all that I am con- 
scious of experiencing within myself, constitute the realities 
of nature. The rest of my knowledge is verbal . . . 151 

Section 18. — As bank notes are the artificial representatives of 
specie, so words are the artificial representatives of natural 
phenomena 152 

Section 19. — When words attempt more than a reference to the 
revelation of our senses, the words may possess a verbal 
meaning, but not a sensible meaning 152 

Section 20. — The sensible signification of a theory is the sensi- 
ble phenomena to which the theory refers . . . .153 



XVI CONTENTS. 

Section 21. — We confound theories with the realities of nature 154 

Section 22. — Every theory possesses a verbal meaning- as well 
as a sensible 154 

Section 23. — We cannot transmute sights, feels, &c, into words, 
though we strive after the transmutation with an entire un- 
consciousness that we are transmuting one sentence only into 
another . . . . 155 

Section 25.— Words are sometimes the ultimate meaning of 
words 156 

Section 26. — In all discussions, we should discriminate whether 
we are attempting to define a word, or to designate an exist- 
ence 156 

Section 28. — We mistake for sensible investigations, what are 
only verbal deductions from artificial definitions . . . 157 

Section 31. — We mistake words for things . . . .159 



CONTENTS. XV11 



PART THIRD. 

OF LANGUAGE WITH REFERENCE TO THE RELATION WHICH 
WORDS BEAR TO EACH OTHER. 

LECTURE XIII. — Language commands our assent to proposi- 
tions WHEN WE DISCOVER THAT THEIR PREMISES AFFIRM THEIR 

conclusions 163 

Section 1. — Reasoning can effect no more than to show us that 
the conclusion is admitted by the premises .... 164 

Section 14. — When our conclusions are not obviously admitted 
by our premises, we explain the premises so as to show that 
they embrace the conclusion. The explanation is sometimes 
in the form of proofs, and sometimes a definition . . . 166 

Section 23. — Propositions are sophistical when the conclusion 
is only seemingly (not actually) included in the premises . 169 

Section 24. — Sometimes the premises are made to admit very 
covertly the conclusion 169 

Section 25. — Similar principles with the foregoing govern our 
assent to mathematical propositions 170 

Section 29. — Are the foregoing principles of language conven- 
tional, or a dictate of our sensible experience with physical 
bodies? 171 

LECTURE XIV. — Our assent to any proposition is founded on 
our sensible experience . 172 

Section 1. — The incongruity and congruity of any two asser- 
tions are the result of our experience 173 

Section 3. — The congruity and incongruity of any two asser- 
tions are not the results of the conventional meaning of words 173 

Section 4. — The axioms of geometry are no otherwise authori- 
tative than as they refer to our sensible experience . . 174 

Section 5. — A contrivance implies a contriver, because the* im- 
plication refers to our sensible experience .... 174 

Section 6. — Existence implies a beginning, because the implica- 
tion refers to our experience .175 

Section 7. — Time which is not present, must be either past or 
future, because the position is verified by our experience . 175 

Section 8. — That ice cannot be hot is an experimental incon- 
gruity 176 

Section 9. — All the implications of language, all its congruities 
and incongruities, must be interpreted by our sensible expe- 
rience. They signify nothing more . . 176 

3 



XV111 CONTENTS. 

LECTURE XV. — After sensible experience commands our as- 
sent to certain forms of speech, we apply the forms where 
no sensible phenomena are discoverable .... 178 

Section 2. — The implications of language, and the congruities 
and incongruities of words to each other, though significant of 
nothing but our sensible experience, are applied often where 
nothing sensible is discoverable 178 

Section 3. — The word created owes to our experience its predi- 
cability ; hence, its predicability is not significant beyond our 
experience 178 

Section 6. — Words possess no inherent signification. Their 
signification must be interpreted by what we see, feel, taste, 
smell, and hear. Words possess, also, no inherent predica- 
bility. Their predicability must be interpreted by what we 
see, feel, taste, smell, and hear 179 

Section 8.— We do not attribute sweetness to the sun, for the 
same reason that we do attribute a commencement to the sun. 
This alone may teach us that the attribution of either is signi- 
ficant of nothing that we know of the sun .... 180 

Section 9.— A negation that refers to nothing is as insignifi- 
cant as an assertion that refers to nothing. Both must be 
interpreted by the sensible phenomena to which the words 
refer 181 

Section 10. — Words are an invention of man to designate his 
operations and the revelations of his senses. The principle 
which makes words significant when they refer to these, 
makes words insignificant when they refer not to these. . 181 

Section 13. — Verbal processes may usually be continued inter- 
minably ; hence they differ characteristically from sensible 
realities, which are always finite 182 

Section 16. — That we are compelled to eventually abandon our 
verbal processes, should teach us their fallacy . . . 184 

Section 20. — That our verbal processes, when pursued to their 
ultimate limits, lead to absurdities, should teach us that we are 
employing language insignificantly ...... 185 

Section 21. — Creation is the interpreter of words, and words are 
not the interpreters of creation 186 

Section 22. — Nothing can be sustained that is repugnant to reve- 
lation. Natural theology is founded on the same fallacy as 
Zeno's problem of the tortoise 186 

Section 28.— My remarks on theology possess no object but to 
show that my views of language are compatible with revela- 
tion . ,,.,,«..,, 188 



CONTENTS. XIX 

LECTURE XVI. — After sensible experience commands our 

ASSENT TO CERTAIN FORMS OF SPEECH, WE APPLY THE FORMS 
WHERE NO SENSIBLE PHENOMENA ARE DISCOVERABLE. THE SUBJECT 
CONTINUED, AND FURTHER EXEMPLIFIED BY AN INVESTIGATION OF 
VARIOUS SCIENTIFICK TENETS ....... 189 

Section 1. — That an unsupported body will fall to the earth, is 
an experimental fact. The necessity is physical and not 
verbal. When the necessity is verbally implied, without re- 
ferring to any thing sensible, the words return to their original 
insignificance 189 

Section 4.— To say that the earth is either supported or unsup- 
ported, is equally insignificant 190 

Section 5. — The reason which renders the word shape signifi- 
cant when applied to a table, shows that the word is insignifi- 
cant when applied to the earth as a whole .... 190 

Section 6. — The word shape, when applied to the earth, will 
signify any thing to which the word refers . . . .191 

Section 7. — That the shape which we attribute to the earth 
must be some shape that experience has revealed to us, shows 
that the predication of any shape is significant of nothing but 
our experience . . ' . , 191 

Section 8. — No verbal necessity is significant of any thing but 
the sensible information to which it refers .... 192 

Section 10. — The forms of language cease from being signifi- 
cant when the phenomena to which the forms refer cease from 
being discoverable 192 

Section 11. — We are correct in calling the earth a sphere, but 
we are incorrect when we deem the name an authority for 
attributing to the earth sensible properties which our senses 
cannot discover * . . ; 193 

Section 12. — We are correct in saying that the arch of a circle 
can never coincide with a straight line ; but we are incorrect 
when we deem the assertion capable of either revealing to us 
physical facts which our senses cannot discover, or of contra- 
dicting physical facts which our senses can discover . . 195 

Section 15. — That bodies are divisible into parts is a physical 
fact, which possesses no authority but our experience ; hence 
the fallacy of continuing the division verbally, beyond the 
authority of our senses, and even against their authority . 195 

Section 16. — Conclusions respond verbally to premises, as a par- 
rot responds to questions which we may ask it. Whether the 
answer shall be significant or not, depends on something other 
than the parrot .195 

Section 17. — The ultimate cogency of all reasoning refers to 

our sensible experience . .196 

2 



XX CONTENTS. 

Section 24. — The solicitude which philosophical writers usually 
evince for the establishment of names and definitions, arises 
from the verbal deductions which they intend to draw from the 
names . 19S 

LECTURE XVII. —Philosophical speculations are often no- 
thing BUT VERBAL DEDUCTIONS FROM NAMES AND DEFINITIONS . 199 

Section 1. — "What we have experienced in an orange, we deem 
predicable of every thing that is called an orange; without 
reflecting that every word possesses as many meanings as it 
possesses applications to different objects .... 199 

Section 3. — What we infer from given facts is not identical with 
what we discover by our senses 199 

Section 5. — Phraseology is not important while we employ it 
(say the word Caesar) to designate any thing ; but phraseology 
is very important when we infer from the word Caesar, that an 
individual must be a Roman Emperor ..... 200 

Section 10. — We should discriminate between theoretical agents 
and sensible agents. A sensible agent is something which 
our senses discover; but a theoretical agent is something 
which is only supposed to exist 202 

Section 12. — Theoretical agents are of man's fabrication, and 
partake of the mutability of their creator .... 203 

Section 13. — When we employ language for the purpose of 
deducing consequences from names, a change of phraseology 
is productive of a new system of philosophy ... 203 

Section 17. — The choice of phraseology is conventional, and 
subject to the judgment and caprice of men ; but the realities 
of creation are unaffected by our phraseology . . . 204 

LECTURE XVIII. — Of the agents which we employ in the 

CONSTRUCTION OF THEORIES 206 

Section 1. — We can employ no theoretical agents, but such as 
experience has taught us can produce effects similar to those 
which we seek to account for. In a rude age, theoretical 
agents are rude ; in a refined age they are subtile . . . 206 

Section 6. — Every discovery in the arts furnishes us with new 
theoretical agents : 207 

Section 11.— All the words and concomitants of a theory refer 
to our sensible experience for their significance; hence the 
fallacy of the language when the sensible existences are not 
discoverable 209 

Section 17. — When a theory, in some of its results, conflicts 
with our experience, the theory is usually abandoned . . 210 

Section 19. — Every theory and theoretical agent are significant 
of the sensible information to which they refer . . .211 



CONTENTS. XXI 

Section 24. — Theories enable us to connect with pleasing illu- 
sions what would be otherwise disconnected facts . . 212 

Section 26. — Theories are human contrivances by which we 
artificially associate sensible realities, and by familiar pro- 
cesses, account for their production ..... 213 



PART FOURTH. 

OF LANGUAGE WITH REFERENCE TO SOME OF THE USES TO 
WHICH WE APPLY IT. 

LECTURE XIX. — Every question which relates to the ex- 
ternal UNIVERSE IS INSIGNIFICANT, IF IT CANNOT BE ANSWERED BY 
OUR SENSES . 217 

Section 1. — Questions have interrogated every thing but them- 
selves . . . . i ... . . . 217 

Section 2. — All questions which relate to the external universe, 
must be directed to our senses 217 

Section 3. — A question which the senses cannot answer, is 
insignificant . . . . 217 

Section 4. — Our senses alone can answer questions. Words 
can only refer us to what our senses reveal . . . • . 218 

Section 5. — When we attempt to use language for some other 
purpose than to refer to our sensible experience, we are like a 
blind man speaking of colours . " . . . . . 219 

Section 6. — As colours can depict sights only, so words can 
converse of nothing external which is not sight, sound, taste, 
feel, or smell . 219 

Section 8. — An external thing that is not sensible, is as incon- 
gruous a thing as an insensible elephant .... 220 

Section 10. — Every question which relates to the external uni- 
verse, implies (as essential to its signification) that it seeks 
some sensible information 220 

Section 11. — When we attempt to forsake sensible information, 
it is still present with us 221 

Section 12. — Diminution is one of the means by which we 
attempt to conceal the absurdity of employing the names of 
sensible existences, where the existences are not discoverable 221 



XXII CONTENTS. 

Section 13. — Subtilization is another means by which we at- 
tempt to conceal the fallacy of employing the names of sensi- 
ble existences, where the existences are not discoverable by 
our senses . . . . . . . . , . . 222 

Section 14. — Insensibleness is as much a negation of external 
existence, as death is a negation of life, or absence a negation 
of presence ..■>...' 222 

Section 15. — All that Providence has placed within our power, 
in relation to the external universe, is to note what our senses 
discover 223 

Section 17. — Language cannot enable us to penetrate beyond the 
range of our senses . . 224 

LECTURE XX. — Every question which relates to what is 
internal of man, is insignificant if it cannot be answered by 
our consciousness . . 225 

Section 2. — We cannot readily designate by words the pheno- 
mena which constitute our internal consciousness . . 225 

Section 3. — Every man recognises the items of his own con- 
sciousness, how unable soever he may be to designate them 
by words to other men . . . . . . . . 225 

Section 4. — Every question which relates to our internal con- 
sciousness, is best answered by the mute revelations of con- 
sciousness itself . 226 

Section 6. — In relation to the realities of nature which are not 
external of us, language possesses no signification but as it 
refers to our internal experience . . . . . 227 

Section 7. — Questions are insignificant when they seek what 
consciousness cannot answer . ... 227 

LECTURE XXI. — Inquiries after a theory we mistake for an 
investigation of nature . . . . . . . 228 

Section 1. — The words cause and effect are, like all other words, 
insignificant when they refer to nothing ; and are never sen- 
sibly significant of any thing but the sensible particulars to 
which they refer 228 

Section 2. — To invent a verbal cause that will make a unique 
operation of nature, congruous to operations with which we 
are familiar, is mistaken for a physical discovery . . . 229 

Section 4. — Verbal causes may be predicated in infinitum ; hence 
they are characteristically distinguished from the realities of 
nature 229 

Section 5. — The verbal causes which a theorist adopts, are 
usually selected with a reference to his own occupations . 230 



CONTENTS. XX111 

Section 6. — We must discriminate between inquiries after a 
theory, and inquiries after the realities of creation . . 230 

Section 7. — Natural operations which are peculiar, we find diffi- 
cult to subject to a theory 230 

Section 11. — A sensible cause is a sensible existence, and pro- 
duces a sensible effect ; but in a theoretical cause, nothing is 
sensible but the effect 232 

Section 12. — While we employ verbal causes to account for a 
sensible effect, the process harmonizes with our experience ; 
but when we employ a verbal cause to produce verbal effects, 
the process leads us to manifest absurdities. The further we 
proceed in a catenation of such causes and effects, the more 
evidently we recede from the realities of nature . . . 233 

Section 13. — Inquisition concerning the realities of the external 
universe is limited to the discoveries of our senses ; but verbal 
inquisition is boundless . . 233 

Section 14. — In questions, also, which relate to our internal con- 
sciousness, we must discriminate whether the answer is to be 
a theory, or the revelation of consciousness .... 234 

Section 15. — Theories are usually derived from our familiar 
physical operations ; hence, we cannot invent satisfactory 
theories for mental operations; — the two departments of 
creation not being sufficiently analogous .... 234 

Section 19. — The silent revelations of experience can alone 
teach us the realities of our mental nature .... 236 

LECTURE XXII. — Inquiries after the definition of words we 

MISTAKE FOR AN INVESTIGATION OF NATURE .... 238 

Section 1. — We should discriminate between the verbal signifi- 
cation of a word and its sensible signification, if we would 
correctly appreciate either language or the sensible universe 238 

Section 2. — Nothing is more common than to confound the 
verbal meaning of a word with the sensible .... 238 

Section 3. — Before we can tell what an atom is, we must know 
whether the question refers to the verbal meaning of the 
word, or the sensible . . . . . . . 239 

Section 5. — Every word which possesses a sensible meaning, 
possesses also a verbal meaning 240 

Section 7.— The external sensible universe is very different from 
the verbal universe of philosophers . . . . . 240 

Section 9.— The question How? refers usually to a theory, — 
the question What * to a definition : we mistake both for phy- 
sical inquiries 241 

Section 11. — Every existence is its own best interpreter, and 
its own physical revealer 242 



XXIV CONTENTS. 

Section 12. — The verbal meaning of a word is usually founded 
on some theory . . . . . . . . . 242 

Section 13.— The process which deems words the ultimate ob- 
jects of inquiry, may, like all other verbal processes, be con- 
tinued without end 242 

LECTURE XXIII. — In all inquiries which relate to the sen- 
sible UNIVERSE, WE MUST DISCRIMINATE THE SENSE TO WHOSE 
INFORMATION THE INQUIRY REFERS . 244 

Section 1. — Distance names a sight and a feel ; hence the dupli- 
city of asking whether seeing can inform us of distance . 244 

Section 2. — When we know that the word external is restricted 
to the information of feeling, we shall not wonder that hear- 
ing, tasting, smelling, and seeing, cannot reveal what we mean 
by the word external 244 

Section 4. — Above and below name sights ; hence, hearing can- 
not inform us in relation to either above or below . . . 245 

Section 6. — Before we can answer whether colour is connected 
with external objects, we must know the sense to which the 
word connected is intended to refer 246 

Section 8. — Colour is not spread over the surface of bodies 
when we refer to feeling for the signification of the phrase ; 
but colour is spread over the surface of bodies when we refer 
to seeing for the signification of the phrase .... 246 

Section 9.— Before we can tell whether greenness is in grass, 
we must know the sense to which the word is intended to 
refer 247 

Section 10. — Before we can answer the question that inquires 
where colour is situated, we must decide on the sense to 
which the word " where" shall refer for signification . . 247 

Section 12. — Before we can answer whether sweetness is in 
sugar, we must ascertain the sense to which the word in 
is intended to refer ........ . 247 

Section 13. — The senses alone can answer questions which 
relate to the external universe, and we must designate the 
sense to whose authority we are appealing . . . . 248 

LECTURE XXIY. — We interpret the information of our 

SENSES BY WORDS, INSTEAD OF INTERPRETING WORDS BY THE IN- 
FORMATION OF OUR SENSES . 249 

Section 1. — The sensible signification of a word is as various as 
the objects to which the word is applied .... 249 

Section 2. — Instead of interpreting words by sensible informa- 
tion, we interpret sensible information by words . . . 249 

Section 3. — We mistake verbal criticism for an investigation of 
nature 25© 



CONTENTS. XXV 

Section 7. — To interpret nature by language causes frequently 
much amazement 251 

Section 8. — Nature is no party to our phraseology . . . 252 

Section 9* — Much of what is esteemed as profound philosophy, 
is nothing but a disputatious criticism on the meaning of 
words 252 

Section 10. — We resort to language to explain the information 
of our senses, instead of resorting to our senses to explain 
the meaning of words 253 

LECTURE XXV. — We often mistake the inapplicability of 

A WORD FOR AN ANOMALY OF NATURE 255 

Section 1. — The word demonstrate may be restricted in its sig- 
nification so as to be inapplicable to colours .... 255 

Section 3. — The word connexion may be restricted in its signi- 
fication so as to be inapplicable to the relation which is dis- 
coverable between a cause and its effect .... 256 

Section 5. — The word connexion may be so restricted in its 
signification, as to be inapplicable to the relation which exists 
between colour and the body which is coloured . . . 256 

Section 7. — The word know may be so restricted in its signifi- 
cation, as to become inapplicable to a large portion of our 
knowledge 257 

Section 9. — Whether we can be certain that we shall die, de- 
pends on the meaning of the word certain. The question 
relates to language and not to nature 258 

LECTURE XXVI. — We mistake the unintelligibility of a 

WORD OR PROPOSITION FOR A MYSTERY OF NATURE . . . 259 

Section 1.— Language permits us to frame propositions which 
possess a very ambiguous meaning, and sometimes no mean- 
ing 259 

Section 2. — The meaning of a word cannot exceed what man 
can know in relation to it 259 

Section 4. — We impute to nature the ambiguities and unintelli- 
gibility which are produced by a misuse of language . . 260 

LECTURE XXVII. — Language cannot be made significant be- 
yond OUR KNOWLEDGE . 262 

Section 1. — The limitation of meaning which pertains to words, 
we mistake for a limitation of our faculties .... 262 

Section 3. — We mistake the unintelligibility and insignificance 
of certain propositions for mysteries of nature . . . 263 

Section 5. — Such propositions are formed by the employment 
of words divested of their sensible signification . . . 263 

4 



XXVI CONTENTS. 

LECTURE XXVIII. — We mistake the inapplicability of a 

PROCESS OF LANGUAGE FOR A DEFECT OR MYSTERY OF NATURE . 265 

Section 1. — Whether we can or not prove the existence of an 
external universe, or our own existence, depends on the appli- 
cability to it of the verbal processes of logick, and not on 
nature 265 

LECTURE XXIX. — We mistake words for the ultimate ob- 
jects OF knowledge, while the revelations of nature are 
properly the ultimate objects ...... 267 

Section 1. — The phenomena of life are ultimate to the verbal 
question which inquires whether I live, though we mistakenly 
suppose the question to be ultimate to the phenomena . . 267 

Section 2. — The revelations of nature are ultimate to the verbal 
question which inquires after the existence of an external 
universe ; though we mistakenly suppose the question to be 
ultimate to the revelations 267 

Section 4.— -T)eaf mutes are exempt from the fallacy of esti- 
mating words as the ultimate objects of knowledge . . 268 

Section 6. — We constantly mistake some verbal proposition for 
the ultimate object of our knowledge 269 

Section 12. — When we deem words the ultimate objects of our 
knowledge, we invert the order of nature . . . . 271 

CONCLUSION - . . 273 



A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE 



LECTURE I, 



INTRODUCTORY. 



§ l.—To know the extent of our powers will save us from 
impracticable pursuits. 

Man exists in a world of his own creation. He cannot step, 
but on ground transformed by culture ; nor look, but on objects 
produced by art. The animals which constitute his food are 
unknown to nature, while trees, fruits, and herbs, are the trophies 
of his labour. In himself nearly every natural impulse is sup- 
pressed as vicious, and every mortification solicited as a virtue. 
His language, actions, sentiments, and desires, are nearly all 
factitious. Stupendous in achievement, he is boundless in 
attempt. Having subdued the earth's surface, he would explore 
its centre ; having vanquished diseases, he would subdue death. 
Unsatisfied with recording the past, he would anticipate the 
future. Uncontented with subjugating the ocean, he would 
traverse the air. Success but sharpens his avidity, and facility 
but augments his impatience. To know the extent of our 
powers is therefore important, that in our restlessness for further 
acquisitions we may neither dissipate strength in designs for 
which our faculties are unsuited, nor attempt practicabilities by 
incompetent methods. 

§ 2. — We are in little danger from the pursuit of physical 
impracticabilities. 

What we can accomplish in physicks, may be safely left to the 
development of experiment ; for though alchymy and perpetual 
motion have occasioned some waste of time, tangible bodies 

5 



34 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [LECT. I. 

oppose so sturdily our errours when we attempt physical incon- 
gruities, that we lose little by such attempts. Even royalty, 
which seldom hears unsophisticated truths, is treated by phy 
sical bodies as unceremoniously as the commonalty. 

§ 3. — We are in danger ofivasting time in verbal investigations. 

Speculative researches are accommodating to human weak- 
ness. From geology, which teaches us what exists in the centre 
of the earth, to astronomy, which reveals what is transpiring in 
the empyrean ; — and from physicks, which discourse about the 
body, to metaphysicks, which treat of the mind ; the mass of 
verbal doctrine assumes any shape which ingenuity strives to 
create : — like the pebbles of Rockaway, that change their posi- 
tion as every wave, rising on the ruins of its predecessor, rushes, 
(lord of the moment,) proudly over the beach. 

§ 4. — To ascertain the capacity that language possesses for 
discoursing of external existences which our senses cannot 
discover, will enable us, more under standingly than at pre- 
sent, to estimate theories. 

To fix the fluctuating mass of theories, no man has suggested 
any other expedient than the construction of some new theory, 
to whose authority, (like to Johnson's orthography,) all persons 
shall submit. The remedy is constantly augmenting the disease. 
I shall not imitate so unsuccessful a procedure ; but as theories 
are the means by which we attempt to discourse of external 
existences that our senses cannot discover ; and as the desire for 
such discourse originates a large portion of our theories ; I will 
teach you the capacity of language for such an employment, 
and thereby enable you to judge more understandingly than 
you can at present, the utility of most theories, and the signifi- 
cation of all. 

§ 5. — No knoivledge is more important than a correct 
appreciation of language. 

But not in theories only is a correct understanding desirable 
of the capacity of language. Words constitute a great part of 



iECT. I>] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 35 

all our thoughts. An infusion of words is the means of nearly- 
all instruction, and an ability to repeat words is the substance 
of much of our learning. When a man is distressed, we admi- 
nister to him words for his consolation ; and when he rejoices, 
we proffer words to heighten his felicity. Even when medicine 
admits itself vanquished, — when wealth can no longer purchase 
a gratification, nor power excite ambition, — words not only 
maintain their influence, but their potency is augmented by the 
surrounding desolation. 

§ 6. — Verbal discourse contains defects which have escaped 
detection. 

Language possessing this important relation to man, the duty 
is imperative of becoming acquainted with its defects ; espe- 
cially if it contain any which have hitherto escaped detection ; — 
and such it actually contains. 

$ 7. — Significant verbal inquisition is not unlimited. 

Language possesses also an illimitable power of interrogation, 
Nothing is too sacred to escape its inquiries, — nothing too 
remote, — nothing too minute. We employ it, if not without 
suspicion that it contains any latent incapacity for unlimited 
inquisition, with certainly a very indefinite apprehension of its 
limitations : — hence the importance of defining the limits, (if it 
possess any,) within which interrogatories are significant. I am 
prepared to show both that it possesses limited powers in these 
particulars, and to define the limits. 

§ 8. — Language may be formed into propositions whose results, 
though incontrovertible by logick, are irreconcileable with 
our senses. 

Language is also mouldable into propositions that can neither 
he controverted by any known rules of logick, nor credited with- 
out violence to the evidence of our senses : — hence the import- 
ance of ascertaining whether language, when thus employed. 



36 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [LECT. I. 

possesses not a covert signification that will save us from the 
alternative of either disbelieving our senses, or disbelieving the 
best demonstrated conclusions.- I will satisfy you that it pos- 
sesses such a signification, and I will teach you the signification 
of language that is thus sophistically employed. The proposi- 
tions to which I allude may be known from the following 
examples : — 

1. Mathematicks assures us that the water which placidly 
flows in our canal, is nowhere level; — that the walls which 
constitute the sides of this chamber, are not parallel; — that a 
line no longer than an inch, is diminishable interminably. 

2. Astronomy declares that we are whirled momentarily a 
thousand miles in one direction, and fifteen miles in another ; 
and in this giddy rotation, our heads travel faster and further 
than our bodies : — that a portion of mankind walk with their 
feet diametrically opposite to ours; — that the world is a ball, 
and assumes at a given distance the appearance of a star ; — that 
comets are hotter than red hot iron, and the sun a body of fire 
thirteen hundred thousand times larger than the earth; — that 
tides are caused by the attraction of the moon, and weight 
produced by the attraction of the earth. 

3. Opticks assert that while I look around, and perceive 
distant hills, spacious streets, lofty buildings, and prosperous 
activity, I truly see neither spaciousness nor distance, but a 
miniature, not an inch in diameter, that is painted on the retina 
of my eyes. 

4. Physiology affirms that a ray of light, though it seems 
colourless, is iridescent ; while roses are a mere blank apparatus, 
to display the tints which exist latently in light. Botany has, 
however, compensated the queen of flowers for this disparage- 
ment. Botany insists that plants eat, drink, sleep, and breathe ; — 
that they are male and female ; — that their fragrance is amorous 
sighs, and their motions nervous irritability. 

5. Chymistry is peculiarly the science of enchantment. It 
asserts that water is principally composed of the most inflam- 
mable substance in nature; — that our flesh is but a combi- 
nation of disgustful gases, and diamonds but a preparation of 
charcoal. 



LECT. I.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 37 



$ 9. — The verbal defects which these discourses will discuss, 
are inseparable from language, and differ from any defects 
that you may anticipate. 

You must not expect that I can, at present, make you under- 
stand the defects of the foregoing propositions. All that I shall 
say hereafter, I deem necessary to convey that information. 
Indeed, I can afford no better guide to lead you ultimately to 
a correct understanding of the defects of language, than to say, 
at a hazard, that I allude to no defects that you ever heard of or 
conceived. I also allude to none that can be obviated. The 
most that I hope to perform is to make them known ; as we 
erect a beacon, to denote the presence of a shoal which we 
cannot remove. 

§ 10. — But though you know not the defects to which I refer, 
still, when you read the conclusions of astronomy that I have 
above adduced, the conclusions of opticks, of physiology, and 
chymistry, may you not infer, that if such doctrines are incon- 
testible by logick, the doctrines are more repugnant to reason, 
than the belief that some latent sophistry exists in the language 
by which the doctrines are expressed, or in the processes by 
which the doctrines are sustained ? 

§11 . — When you hear further, not as an item of revelation to 
which the judgment is bound to submit, but as a reality, elabo- 
rated proudly by the judgment itself, that all things were created 
out of nothing ; — that every existence had a beginning, except 
the first, which had no beginning ; — that every existence sprang 
from some cause, except the first, which is uncaused; — may 
we not catch some glimmering of a suspicion, that our words 
have lost their intelligence in these heights of speculation ? — as 
we read in a book of ingenious absurdities, that a man in a 
balloon ascended so high, that his hat, which he accidentally 
removed from his head, flew upwards, having lost its original 
gravity, and become attracted by the moon's. 



38 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [LECT. I. 



§ 12. — These discourses concern not the relative meaning which 
words bear to each other, but the relation ivhich words bear 
to created existences. 

I have gained my present object, if I have excited your 
attention to the succeeding discourses, and removed some pre- 
possessions that would have prevented you from discovering in 
language the defects to which I refer ; v for when I speak of 
defects in language, most persons suppose that I allude to the 
admitted ambiguity of speech. My remarks will not concern 
the relative meaning which words bear to each other, but the 
relation that words bear to the phenomena of the universe. 

§ 13. — We translate sensible existences into words, instead of 
interpreting words by the information of our senses. 

When an Englishman is learning to read French, he learns 
to translate French words into English words. A French word 
he estimates as a mere representative of some English word. 
We translate creation much in the same way. Every natural 
existence we deem a mere representative of some word. Lan- 
guage usurps thus, to an astonishing extent, the dignity which 
truly belongs to creation. I know we usually say that words 
are signs of things. Practically, we make things the signs of 
words. 

§ 14. — We must make our senses the expositors of words, 
instead, of making words the expositors of what our senses 
reveal. 

Our misuse of language may be illustrated by another 
simile: — we estimate creation by means of words, much in 
the same way as we estimate the gravity of bodies by means 
of weights. My lectures will endeavour to subordinate lan- 
guage to nature, — to make nature the expositor of words, 
instead of making words the expositors of nature. If I suc- 
ceed, the success will ultimately accomplish a great revolution 
in every branch of learning. 



LECT. I.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 39 



$ 15. — To understand these discourses, a slight perusal of 
detached parts, or of the whole, will be insufficient. 

That language will eventually receive the construction for 
which I shall contend, I feel no doubt, though I may not possess 
the talent to introduce the reformation. Before we commence 
our discussions, I must warn you, that the perverted estimation 
of language is so habitual, that you will be constantly liable to 
misapprehend my remarks. Should a person, unacquainted 
with geometry, read Euclid's Elements, he may meet with no 
word for which he possesses not a definite signification ; yet, 
when he shall have read to the end of the volume, he will know 
but little of geometry. To understand geometry, it must be 
studied slowly and painfully. No effort of mine can indoctrinate 
you with the knowledge of language on any easier conditions. 

§ 16. — I will labour intently to state my views as intelligibly 
as possible, and as concisely ; and as I am aware that in oral 
instruction to voluntary auditors, the speaker must conciliate his 
hearers, or be taught by the solitude which will soon environ 
him, that his labours are vain, I will endeavour to believe that 
Philosophy is not necessarily so frowning and sluggish a divinity 
as her ministers usually represent. Her limbs are masculine 1 
admit, and her discourse is grave ; but her language may be 
tasteful, and her decorations gay. I pause at these promises, 
All the stimulation which you can yield will probably be neces- 
sary to my perseverance. If I stagnate in the midst of your 
kindest efforts, the result should disappoint my hopes, rather 
than your expectations. 

$ 17. — When fame has produced for an individual an elevation 
to which all eyes are continually directed ; — when his opinions 
are impatiently expected, and rapidly disseminated; — when 
they are applauded in anticipation, and their adoption secured by 
prepossessions; — the labour of composition assimilates to the 
progress through Spain of the Duke of Angouleme,* — a pro- 
gress in which every city was approached but to be entered 

* This discourse was pronounced in the winter of 1825. 



40 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [lECT. I* 

with a bloodless triumph ; and every enemy pursued, but to be 
received by a resistless surrender — a progress whose labour is 
only the fatigue of pleasure, and whose dangers are merely 
the inebriation of success. 

§ 18. — Startled at the difference between such a writer and 
me, I have more than once cast aside my pen as an insidious 
enemy, that lures me from the substantial pursuits of life. Even 
the consolation of yielding an amusement to you cannot well be 
expected ; and while I have been distracted in seeking a worthy 
motive for exertion, I have not been exempt from apprehensions 
that I may, unconsciously, be influenced by the demon who 
delights to revel in our infirmities : the demon who makes the 
taciturn exult at his own dulness, and the loquacious enamoured 
of his own frivolity ; who makes ill-timed gravity increase its 
frown, and incessant levity augment its laughter. 

§ 19. — The demon at whose pernicious suggestions even moral 
deformities are heightened. Surgeons, thus induced, will boast 
of an insensibility that they cannot feel ; and libertines, of pro- 
fligacy that they never practised. The avaricious will falsely 
magnify his selfishness, and the prodigal his expenses. The 
liar will laugh at an exaggerated recital of his infamy, and the 
extortioner at an aggravated list of his oppressions. Nor escape 
personal deformities, the malice of this evil counsellor. Dwarfs, 
at his suggestion, endeavour to appear smaller than nature 
intended, and giants larger. The stammerer he urges to inces- 
sant conversation, and the freckled to an unnecessary nudity. 

§ 20. — While I was reflecting on the eccentricities which pro- 
ceed from his persuasion, imagination presented him unexpect- 
edly before me. His language was harmonious, — his actions 
were profoundly respectful. Delight hung upon his lips, and 
conviction attended his communication. An unusual compla- 
cency expanded my breast. I extended my arms in the attitude 
of oratory, and prepared to welcome him with all the figures of 
rhetorick ; when suddenly, approaching the fiend, his eyes were 
averted, and his face Was distorted in ridicule. He dissolved 
into air, and, as he vanished, I discovered his name. Vanity, 
stamped upon his back. 



PART FIRST. 



OF LANGUAGE WITH REFERENCE TO EXISTENCES WHICH 
ARE EXTERNAL OF MAN. 



LECT. II.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 43 



LECTURE II. 

EXTERNAL SENSIBLE EXISTENCES ARE SUSCEPTIBLE OF A CLASSI- 
FICATION WHICH SHALL REFER EACH EXISTENCE TO THE SENSE 
THROUGH WHOSE AGENCY WE ACQUIRE OUR KNOWLEDGE OF 
THE EXISTENCE. 

§ 1. — Creation is boundless, whether we estimate its objects 
numerically, or its extent superficially. We cannot, by pene- 
trating the earth, discover a vacuity; — -we cannot exalt our 
vision beyond created objects; — we cannot fathom the fulness 
of the ocean. 

§ 2. — To bring this immensity of existences within our definite 
comprehension, naturalists divide the whole into a vegetable 
kingdom, a mineral kingdom, and an animal kingdom : with 
various subdivisions of classes, orders, species, &c. 

§ 3. — Chymists subject creation to a still more concise classi- 
fication. All objects are convertible, chymically, into about 
forty different substances ; and chymists classify objects with 
reference to the substances into which they are thus converti- 
ble : — hence, with chymists, the universe is reduced into about 
forty different substances. 

§ 4. — To understand the relation ivhich words bear to created 
existences, we must contemplate creation apart from words. 

Creation is susceptible of a classification more definite, and 
even less multifarious, than that of chymistry. This classifica- 
tion will constitute the present discourse. You must understand 
it, because I cannot teach you the relation that words bear to 
created existences, till you can contemplate the existences apart 
from words. 



44 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



§ 5. — The external universe may be divided into sights, sounds, 
tastes, feels, and smells. 

The classification which I propose, refers to our senses. 
We derive from them our knowledge of the external universe ; 
hence, by marshalling under each of our five senses, all the 
information that the sense reveals to us ; our knowledge of the 
external universe becomes divided into five classes. Each class 
can be confounded with no other. A triangle is not more dis- 
tinguishable from a circle, than the information of one sense is 
distinguishable from the information of every other. To make 
each class as distinct in name, as in nature, every information 
that is revealed to me by hearing, I shall call a sound; — every 
information that is revealed to me by seeing, a sight; — every 
information that is revealed to me by feeling, a feel; — every 
information that is revealed to me by smelling, a smell; — and 
every information that is revealed to me by tasting, a taste. 

§ 6. — Sights, feels, fyc, are 'presented to us by nature in 
certain groups. 

When considered with reference to our senses, and divested 
of names, the external universe is a mass of sights, sounds, 
tastes, feels, and smells. Nature presents these to us in certain 
groups. A sight and a feel that are invariably associated, we 
call fire. Another group, consisting of a certain sight, feel, 
taste, and smell, (associated in a manner peculiar to nature,) we 
call an orange. Another group, consisting of a certain sight, 
feel, and taste, we call bread. Another group, consisting wholly 
of sights, we call a rainbow. 

§ 7. — Sights and feels are the most frequently associated. 

The associations which are most frequent in nature, are sights 
associated with feels. Of these associations, one sight and feel 
we call silver; another, gold; another, mahogany; another, 
marble ; and another, wool. 



LECT. II.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 45 



§ 8. — Sights, feels, tastes, and smells, are frequently 
associated. 

The associations which are next in frequency, are composed 
of a sight, feel, taste, and smell. The word lemon names an 
association of this description, and the words brandy, apple, 
brass, sulphur, oil, tar, tobacco, cheese, beef, cinnamon, &c. 

§ 9. — Sights, feels, and tastes, are found in frequent asso- 
ciation. To some of the associations we apply the words salt, 
sugar, water, honey, milk, wheat, chalk, &c. 

§ 10. — Sights, sounds, tastes, feels, and smells, nature sometimes 
presents singly to us. 

In some cases, sights, sounds, tastes, feels, and smells, are 
presented to us disjunctively. One sight, which is thus pre- 
sented to us, we call moon. Another sight we call light ; and 
another, aurora borealis, meteor, ignis fatuus, &c. A certain 
unassociated feel, we call air. Another feel, we call wind ; and 
another, cold. A certain unassociated sound, we call echo. 
Thunder can hardly be designated as an unassociated sound, for 
it is usually associated with a sight which we call lightning. 
Tastes and smells are never presented to us, unless in associa- 
tion with some other existence. I recollect only one exception, 
and we designate it, when it occurs, by saying, we have an 
unpleasant taste in our mouths. 

§ 11. — We must discriminate betiveen the extent and variety 
of creation, and the paucity of language. 

The number of unassociated sights is very small, if we esti- 
mate them by the number of words which name such sights. 
They are, however, far more numerous than this mode of esti- 
mating them will imply. The word star, for instance, names 
an unassociated sight, (a sight not associated with any feel, 
&c. ;) but the word which thus seems to name but one sight, 
names a great number of sights, that differ in magnitude, 



46 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

brilliancy, colour, shape, &c. I state this, to enable you to 
perceive, that verbal designations are an inadequate means of 
estimating the variety and number of natural existences. 

§ 12. — The sights which are presented to us in association 
with feels, &c, are also far more numerous and various than 
language implies. Colours alone are almost infinite in variety, 
while our names for them are comparatively a few words. But 
a large portion of sights we never attempt to designate by spe- 
cifick appellations. When I look at a chair, I discern a different 
sight from what I see when I look at fire ; still, for the sight 
alone of neither the chair nor the fire, language possesses no 
name. The words chair and fire apply severally to an asso- 
ciated sight and feel. When we speak of the sight alone, we 
employ a periphrasis, and say the appearance of the fire, the 
appearance of the chair, &c. 

§ 13. — Tastes, smells, sounds, and feels, are seldom designated 
specifically by names. 

Men have been more sparing of names to tastes, smells, 
sounds, and feels, than even to sights. Fragrant, fetid, and a 
few other words, are all that we have deigned to appropriate to 
the information of the sense of smelling. Hot, cold, pain, &c, 
are all which we have appropriated to specifick feels, though 
nature presents them to us in boundless variety. When I touch 
iron, I realize a different feel from what I experience when I 
touch wood, silk, wool, linen, &c. ; but to none of these feels is 
a name appropriated. The word iron names an associated sight 
and feel. The same may be said of the words wood, silk, wool, 
linen, &c. 

§ 14. — We create names when we deem them useful. 

But not only numerous sights, sounds, tastes, feels, and smells, 
possess separately no name ; many associations of them possess 
no name. We name such associations only as utility requires us 
to designate. A certain associated sight and feel we designate 
by the word square, and others we name round, flat, &c. ; but 



LECT. II ] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 47 

a hundred shapes which may be assumed by a piece of glass, 
on its accidental fracture, we have not designated by any name. 

$ 15. — The associations of nature are sometimes separable. 

If a piece of gold is held in front of a mirror, the mirror will 
exhibit the sight, gold, separated from the feel. In many other 
instances, art can separate the sights and feels which nature 
associates. If you thrust a stick into water, and leave a part 
unimmersed, the stick will exhibit the sight, crooked, without 
the feel, crooked. If you look at a candle, and press with your 
finger against the external angle of one of your eyes, you will 
experience the sight, two candles, unaccompanied by the feel, 
two. If you look at the sun, and then close your eyes ; or, 
without looking at the sun, if you press for a moment rather 
painfully against either of your eyes ; you will see various 
colours, unaccompanied by any of the feels with which colours 
are generally associated. If you whirl your body, and produce 
dizziness, every object on which you look will exhibit the sight, 
rotation, unaccompanied by the feel. 

§ 16. — Feels can also be separated from the sights with which 
they are naturally associated. 

If you cross the third and fourth fingers of your right hand, 
and rest the tips of the crossed fingers on a bullet, you will 
experience the feel, two bullets, unaccompanied by the sight, 
two. I have seen a wheel whirl so rapidly and evenly, as to 
present the feel, motion, without the sight. Blindness and 
darkness effectually separate all feels from their associated 
sights. To the blind, iron is a feel only, fire a feel only, 
sunshine a feel only. 

§ 17. — Painting, slight of hand, natural magick, <£c, consist 
in the separation, either artificially or spontaneously, of the 
sensible existences which nature usually associates. 

The art of painting consists principally in producing sights 
separated from their usually attendant feels: — the sight, pro- 



48 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

minence, without the feel, — the sight, distance, without the 
feel, — the sight, shape, without the feel. Perfumery consists 
in separating the smell, rose, jessamine, &c, from the sights 
and feels with which the smells are naturally associated Ven- 
triloquism and mimickry consist in separating sounds from the 
sights and feels with which the sounds are naturally associated. 
Slight of hand and natural magick are either the apparent or 
actual separation of phenomena which nature generally asso 
ciates : — usually some sight separated from its associated feel 
If a wine glass be half filled with cotton wool, and immersed, 
(in an inverted position,) in a bowl of water, the cotton will 
exhibit the sight, wet, as you slowly emerge the wine glass. 
To the feel, the cotton will be dry. Sights are far more fre- 
quently and easily separated from their associated feels, than 
feels are from their associated sights. 

§ 18. — When we see a sight, experience alone induces us to 
expect that it is associated with a feel. 

An ignis fatuus is the sight, fire, without the feel. Our sur- 
prise at the phenomenon, and the alarm of the ignorant, is not 
occasioned by the sight, but at the absence of any associated 
feel. We forget that experience is all the warrant which we 
possess, in any case, for expecting a feel, where we discover 
a sight. We erroneously deem the sight a proof that a feel 
exists, and hence we suspect no possibility of mistake when we 
predicate tangibility of the sun, moon, and stars. We suppose 
that we can see their tangibility ; a supposition which involves 
the absurdity that we can feel with our sight. When we look 
at space, and know that our hand will encounter no resistance 
in passing through it ; and when we look at glass, and know 
that our hand will encounter resistance in passing through it ; 
the knowledge in both cases is experimental, and no part of the 
sight of either the glass or space. That a fog is not tangible, 
and that a stone wall is ; that the moon cannot be reached by 
our hand, and that the table can be ; are all revelations of 
feeling, and not revelations of vision. 



LECT. II,] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 49 



^ 19, — When we perceive a feel, experience alone induces us 
to expect that it is associated with a sight. 

Should we feel a violent external pressure, and discover no 
accompanying sight, we should be alarmed at the invisible 
annoyance; — still, experience alone induces us to expect a 
visible accompaniment, when we experience a feel : and hence, 
an external pressure produced by a gust of wind, disconcerts no 
person by its invisibility. External feels, unassociated with a 
sight, are very few. The wind is such an existence ; and tem- 
perature, both hot and cold, is another. A person unaccus- 
tomed to the experiment, to whom you should exhibit a bladder 
inflated with air, would expect its contents to be visible, as 
strongly as he would were the bladder filled with stone : — he 
would in both cases believe that the feel of the bladder testified 
to a visible contents : — a belief that involves the absurdity, that 
we can feel visibility. In the dark, when we place our hand on 
a window, and know that what we feel is visible ; and when, at 
the same time, we feel a current of wind rushing through a 
broken window, and know that what we feel is invisible ; the 
knowledge in both cases is experimental, and no part of the feel 
of either the window or the wind : — the knowledge is a revela- 
tion of vision, and not of feeling. 

§ 20. — Language refers to the groups which nature presents 
to us, and not to the individual phenomena of any group. 

I shall not pursue these remarks, as they belong more pro 
perly to the future physical investigations referred to in my 
preface. I introduced them here with no object but to enable 
you, amid the groups of sensible existences which compose the 
external universe, to discriminate the separate existences of 
each group. The discrimination is peculiarly important, lan- 
guage referring to the groups, and seldom regarding the individual 
phenomena which compose any group. All the incidents which 
I have stated are mere illustrations of the proposed discri-. 
mination, and probably I need not burthen you with further 
examples. 

3 



50 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE, [PART I 



§ 21. — Words are confounded with things. 

The benefits which you are to derive from the discrimination 
will be gradually disclosed in our progress ; but the first benefit 
is to enable you to contemplate created existences apart from 
their names. The names are at present so identified and con- 
founded with the external existences, that we cannot discover 
the subordination which language bears to the realities of nature, 
but are continually, (as I shall show hereafter,) imputing to 
nature limitations, classifications, ambiguities, imperfections, and 
properties, of various kinds, which truly belong to language 
alone. A child comprehends with difficulty, that in France, the 
people eat apples, and still know not the meaning of the word 
apple. We smile at the child, but we all conform more nearly 
to the child than we imagine, in our identification of language 
with the existences to which we apply it. 

§ 22. — We should endeavour to regard words as merely the 
names of things. 

Should a person point to an object, and ask me what it is, I 
might answer, it is a sight and a feel. My children are so 
accustomed to such answers from me, that they never address 
me as above. They ask me to tell them the name of the object. 
This question keeps the name distinct from the object, and gives 
language its proper subordination to created existences. 

§ 23. — Besides, by answering that the object is a sight and a 
feel, I direct your attention, not to the name, but to the group of 
existences, to which the name refers. Examine it, and discover 
the sight. Handle the object, and discover the feel. Elicit all 
the sights and feels which it presents. Try if it possesses a 
taste and smell. This category conduces to physical knowl- 
edge, and at least separates distinctly physical existences from 
language. 

$ 24. — For the same purposes, when a child reverses the 
inquiry, and asks me what is a rose ; I reply, it is a word with 



LECT. II.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 51 

which we name an associated sight, feel, and smell. For the 
sensible existence itself, I refer him to his senses, as alone able 
to communicate the information: — words being unable to per- 
form the functions of our senses. Words can refer us to sensible 
information which we have experienced ; but they cannot reveal 
to us what we have not experienced. 

§ 25. — If you have succeeded in catching my analysis, you 
no longer see in the heavens, light, clouds, sun, galaxy, moon, 
stars, meteors, space, vacuity, distance, shape, &c. ; but you 
see various sights, to which the above words are names. You 
no longer feel, in a knife, iron, hardness, weight, matter, sub- 
stance, impenetrability, external, cold, edge, sharpness, &c. ; 
but you experience various feels, to which Englishmen apply 
the above words, and Frenchmen apply other words, and unedu- 
cated mutes no words. 

§ 26. — To investigate the sights, sounds, feels, tastes, and 
smells, which separately, and in various associations, constitute 
the external universe, is not my present object ; nor shall I dis- 
cuss whether sights, sounds, tastes, feels, and smells, are words 
which appropriately designate external existences. I adopt the 
phraseology, as a means of investigating the nature of language ; 
and if I shall establish the utility of the adoption, I trust you 
will tolerate the expressions, how much so ever they may offend 
against euphony and custom. 



52 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



LECTURE III. 



LANGUAGE IMPLIES A ONENESS TO WHICH NATURE CONFORMS 

NOT IN ALL CASES. 

§ 1. — The existence which we name a shadow, possesses more 
natural oneness, than the existence which we name gold. 

Having, in my last discourse, divided the sensible universe into 
sights, sounds, tastes, feels, and smells ; the analysis shows that 
language implies a oneness to which nature conforms not in all 
cases : — for instance, the word shadow implies a unit. If we 
refer to nature for the meaning of the word shadow, we discover 
a sight. Here language implies a unit, and nature presents one. 
But the word gold implies a unit also ; and if we refer to nature 
for the meaning of the word gold, we discover a sight and a 
feel : — two distinct existences. 

§ 2.- — The oneness of natural existences must not be interpreted 
by their names, but by our senses. 

Each of our senses is known to be so peculiar, that its loss 
is irremediable by the others. That no sense but seeing can 
inform me of sights, — that no sense but hearing can inform me 
of sounds, — that no sense but feeling can inform me of feels, 
&c.— are obvious truths. Still, the obviousness exists only 
while we use the words sights, sounds, feels, &c. ; for if I 
assert that no sense but seeing can reveal to you gold, I shall 
be told that feeling can reveal it as well as seeing. The one- 
ness of the information exists, however, in language only. A 
man void of sight, and another void of feeling, (if we may 
imagine such a man,) could possess a definite meaning for the 
word gold, without possessing in common any sensible knowl- 
edge of gold. To the blind man, the word would name a feel 



LECT. III.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 53 

only ; and to the other, a sight only. The knowledge which 
they might seem to possess in common, would be verbal and 
not physical. 

$ 3. — We must subordinate language to what we discover in 

nature. 

You may ask whether I mean to assert that gold is not a 
unit ? It is a unit, but its oneness must be interpreted by what 
our senses reveal. In all the uses of language, to thus subor- 
dinate it to nature, is the object of all my lectures. Language 
has usurped over nature a superiority which is so inveterate and 
unsuspected, that we constantly appeal to words for the inter- 
pretation of natural existences, instead of appealing to natural 
existences for the interpretation of words. 

§ 4. — Verbally, the oneness of every existences is equally simple, 
but the natural oneness varies in different existences. 

The English language contains but a few thousand words, 
while the objects to which we apply the words are innumerable. 
To effect these infinite appliances, every word receives many 
meanings : snow is white, paper is white, silver is white, the air 
is white, glass is white, you are white, and the floor is white; 
hence, after you are satisfied of the propriety of calling an object 
white, I shall know but little of its appearance, without I take 
an actual view of the object. The word white names, you per- 
ceive, certain general characteristicks, and disregards less obvious 
individualities. The generality of language is an irremediable 
defect in its structure ; for were we to invent a separate name 
for every sight which we now denominate white, language would 
be too voluminous for utility, and perhaps for our memory. The 
same remarks apply to every word. To know, therefore, the 
sensible meaning of the word unit in any given case, our senses 
must examine the case, and we shall find that the oneness of a 
shadow differs from the oneness of gold ; the oneness of gold 
differs from the oneness of water ; and the oneness of water 
differs from the oneness of an orange. Imagine, for instance, 
four men so misformed, that- each possesses only one sense. 



54 A TREA.TISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

Let the senses which they possess be seeing, tasting, feeling, 
and smelling. To one of the men, the word orange will name 
a sight; to another, a taste; to another, a smell; and to the 
other, a feel : four dissimilar existences. An orange is, how- 
ever, one existence, as appropriately as a shadow ; but we must 
interpret the oneness by what we discover in the orange, and 
not interpret what we discover in the orange by the word one. 
Such a misinterpretation is common, and it has exceedingly 
perplexed speculative inquiries. 

§ 5. — In all our speculations, we estimate created existences by 
the oneness of their name. 

Bishop Berkeley perceived that the word roundness signifies a 
sight and a feel. He knew not that the duality of nature controls 
the oneness of the name. He supposed that the oneness of the 
name proves the duality of nature to be fallacious ; and that 
either the sight is the true roundness, or the feel. He decided 
in favour of the feel, and hence he proclaimed roundness to be 
invisible : — invisible, because he restricted the name to the feel ! 

§ 6. — Because nature exhibits not the oneness ivhich we find in 
language, we impute the discrepancy to a fallacy of nature, 
instead of knowing that it is simply a provision of language. 

When we look at roundness, we know the feel with which 
nature has associated the sight. This knowledge is derived 
from experience, for seeing cannot inform us of a feel ; but Ave 
need not mysterize a truth which is founded on the organization 
of our senses, and is applicable to all their information. Saint 
Pierre states that a philosopher who lost his sight by gazing too 
intently at the sun, imagined that the darkness which ensued, 
proceeded from a sudden extinction of the sun. This ingenious 
sarcasm is frequently applicable to human conclusions, and thus 
Berkeley never imagined that invisibility was predicable of 
roundness by means of our restricting the name to the feel ; 
but he accused vision with the production of a fallacy. 



LECT. III.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 55 



§ 7. — Instead of employing our experience to teach us that the 
oneness of language is fallacious, we employ it to show that 
the duality of nature is fallacious. 

Rees's Cyclopedia* records a sudden acquisition of sight by a 
person who had been always blind, " When he had learned 
to distinguish bodies by their appearance, he was surprised 
that the apparent prominences of a picture were level to the 
touch." The experience of this person is adduced by the 
Cyclopedia to show that the senses are fallacious, hence the 
person is made to ask which sense deceived him. Neither 
sense, however, deceived him. The sight prominence, and the 
feel prominence, are so generally associated, that we expect the 
feel when we see the sight ; but they are distinct phenomena, 
and may be separated, as the picture evinces. If we assume 
that the sight and the feel are invariably associated, the mistake 
is in our inexperience, and not in our senses, nor in nature. A 
deaf mute, when he should first observe, in either a picture or a 
mirror, the sight prominence separated from the feel, would be 
as much disappointed as we ; but he would immediately learn 
the duality of nature, and be satisfied. But we contrast the 
duality of nature with the oneness of the word prominence ; and 
instead of employing the discrepancy to show that the oneness 
of language is fallacious, we employ it to show that the duality 
of nature is fallacious. The delusion is extraordinary by which 
we thus exalt language above nature: — making language the 
expositor of nature, instead of making nature the expositor of 
language. 

§ 8. — We make language the expositor of nature, instead of 
making nature the expositor of language. 

In the Gentleman's Magazine of July, 1796, published in 
London, another blind person testifies that figure is not visible. 
" When he first acquired vision, he knew not one shape from 
another." We are prepared to hear him announce, that he 

* Title, Philosophy. 



56 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

knows not the name of colours ; but a different ignorance seems 
implied by an inability to determine by sight a globe from a plain. 
Our surprise proceeds less from any practical ignorance of the 
duality of nature, than from unsuspicion of the fallacious one- 
ness of language ; an unsuspicion which induces us to believe 
that when a blind man knows globes and plains by the feel, he 
knows the same units that he subsequently may be made to see. 
But I introduced the above quotation to show that the blind 
man's experience is not employed to expose the fallacious one- 
ness of the word shape, but to convict either nature or our 
senses of a fallacy in not exhibiting the same oneness that the 
word shape implies. We assume that language is the expositor 
of nature ; and as language implies that shape is a unit, we 
restrict the word to the feel, and announce (not as a conven- 
tional provision of language, but as a detected fallacy of nature,) 
that figure is invisible :— invisible, because we restrict the name 
to the feel. 

§ 9.— We invent theories to reconcile the duality of nature to 
the oneness of language. 

• 

"When I look at a book," says Professor Reid, « it seems to 
possess thickness, as well as length and breadth; but we are 
certain that the visible appearance possesses no thickness, for it 
can be represented exactly on a piece of flat canvass." The 
painting exhibits the sight thickness without the feel. If we 
had always supposed thickness a unit, this experiment ought to 
have undeceived us. But we are not accustomed to subordinate 
language to the revelation of our senses ; hence we invent theo- 
ries to reconcile the revelation of our senses with the implica- 
tions of language. The theory in the above case consists in 
restricting the word thickness to the feel, and pronouncing the 
sight a delusion. That seeing cannot acquaint us with the feel 
thickness, is an interesting item of experimental knowledge 
We need not give it an artificial piquancy by limiting the signi- 
fication of the word thickness to the feel, and asserting that 
thickness is invisible. The feel thickness and the sight are 
equally realities of the external universe ;- equally entitled 
to honour ;-equally inconvertible. We may, if we choose 



LECT. III.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 57 

restrict the word to the sight, and assert that the feel is a fallacy ; 
but nature is no party to our philology. She exhibits her phe- 
nomena just as our senses discover, unaffected by our theories, 
and unchanged by our phraseology. 

^ 10 m — To assert that distance is invisible, is only an enigmatical 
mode of relating the simple fact, that seeing cannot reveal 
to us a feel. 

When I look at a picture, one part appears remote, and 
another near. To the feeling the parts are equi-distant. From 
the frequency with which the sight distance and the feel distance 
are associated, we suppose them identical ; but pictures would 
always have taught us the contrary, if we had not deemed the 
authority of language, which calls the sight and feel a unit, 
superior to the authority of experience, which teaches us that 
they are not a unit. A restored blind man, who should see 
distance for the first time, would no more expect that it was 
associated with the feel distance, than he could tell, by looking 
at a red hot iron, the feel with which that appearance is asso- 
ciated. We may, if we please, restrict the word distance to the 
feel, and assert that distance is invisible ; but this is only an 
enigmatical mode of relating the simple and undisputed fact, 
that seeing cannot reveal to us a feel. 

§ 11. — Whether seeing can or not inform us of an external 
universe, depends on the meaning which we attach to the 
word external. The question relates to language, and not 
to nature. 

That seeing, tasting, smelling, and hearing, can yield us no 
intimation of an external universe, is another puzzling tenet of 
speculative philosophy, founded on the errour of estimating 
sensible existences by the oneness of their name, instead of 
estimating the name by the duality of nature. The word external 
names usually a sight and a feel. If I look at this table, I dis- 
cover the sight external ; if I touch the table, I realize the feel 
external. When we speak of external, we should therefore 
explain to which we allude, — the sight or the feel. This ambi- 



58 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE [PART I. 

guity was discovered by Locke, but he knew no alternative but 
to select whether the feel is the real external, or the sight. 
He selected the feel, and succeeding philosophers have obeyed 
his decision. Seeing, therefore, cannot reveal to us an external 
universe, because we restrict the signification of the word 
external to the feel. 

§ 12. — Estimating nature by the oneness of language is a fal- 
lacy which enters deeply into every system of philosophy. 

I hope you are now convinced that language implies a one- 
ness to which nature conforms not. The discrepancy has 
greatly perplexed philosophy, and produced some of its most 
enigmatical speculations. A few of these I have discussed, not 
to subvert them, but to elucidate the errour on which they are 
founded. I might pursue the discussion inimitably, for the 
errour enters deeply into every system of philosophy ; but I 
shall have gained my object if I have stated examples enough 
to teach you the latent sophistry of language to which I have 
alluded. 



LECT. IV. J A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 59 



LECTURE IV. 

THE ONENESS IMPLIED BY LANGUAGE AFFECTS NOT ONLY META- 
PHYSICAL DISQUISITIONS, BUT PHYSICAL SPECULATIONS. 

§ 1. — When a word names the phenomena of two or more senses, 
the oneness of the name is peculiarly embarrassing. 

In my last discourse, I showed that sensible existences are pre- 
sented to us variously grouped, and that we estimate the oneness 
of each group by the oneness of its name, and not by the reve- 
lation of our senses. The errour is peculiarly embarrassing 
when the group consists of existences (like figure, magnitude, 
distance, &c.) that are revealed to us by two or more senses ; 
because the imputed oneness of the group seems to manifest 
that two or more senses reveal to us the same information ; a 
position which contradicts the known limitation of our senses. 

§ 2. — The errour affects principally metaphysical disquisitions, 
and the examples which I adduced were extracted from the ab- 
struse speculations of Locke, Hume, Descartes, Berkeley, Reid, 
and kindred writers. But in many other cases, and of a nature 
quite different, language implies a oneness, and we credit the 
implication, to the vitiation of our most familiar speculations and 
pursuits. To an exposition of the evil in this new guise, the 
present discourse will be directed. 

§ 3. — We seek in nature for a unit which exists in language 

only. 

I am speaking, I am standing, several persons are present. 
Each of these assertions is a truth ; but if we seek among these 
truths for truth itself, believing it to be a unit, we are seeking 
in nature for what is merely a contrivance of language. " What 
is truth?" said Pilate. He supposed it a unit, and hence the 



60 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

difficulty of the question. All things that we call truths, pos- 
sess certain general characteristicks ; just as snow, salt, silver, 
and glass, possess certain characteristicks, which entitle them 
all to the designation of white : but if we wish to ascertain the 
meaning of the word white in any given case, we must examine 
the object to which it is applied ; and if we wish to know the 
meaning of the word truth in any given case, we must examine 
the circumstances to. which the word is applied. The oneness 
of a thousand whites is verbal ; and the oneness of a thousand 
truths is verbal. The unit is a creation of language ; hence the 
fallacy, ambiguity, and difficulty, when we seek in nature for 
a corresponding unit. 

§ 4. — Groups of natural existences and relations may be deemed 
units, but io e must estimate their oneness by our sensible 
experience, and not by the implication of language ; nature 
being no party to our language. 

Temperature is hot, cold, tepid, freezing, melting, burning, 
&c. Temperature seems a unit, but these examples exhibit it 
multiform. Shall we interpret the oneness of temperature by 
the multiformity of nature, or shall we estimate hot, cold, tepid, 
freezing, &c, by the oneness of the word temperature ? We 
choose the latter course, and fallaciously perplex ourselves to 
discover in hot, cold, tepid, &c., the unit which exists in lan- 
guage only. Hot, cold, tepid, &c, may be deemed a unit ; but 
we must estimate their oneness by what we discover in nature, 
and not by the implication of language. The oneness of the 
name is a contrivance of language. The oneness of the phe- 
nomena is the similarity which induces us to class them under 
one name. 

§ 5. — The oneness of nature is different in different cases, but 
the oneness which language implies is always complete. 

The health of a country is as much a unit in language as the 
health of Thomas. In nature, the oneness of the two cases is 
dissimilar. Even Thomas's general health during a year, is 



LECT. IV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 61 

less a unit in nature, than his health at the present moment. 
The oneness which language implies is always entire ; while 
nature presents but different approximations to a simple oneness. 
The saltness of the ocean is a unit in language, and the saltness 
of any given drop of the ocean is another unit ; but the oneness 
is more unique in the drop than in the ocean. The oneness of 
an army is as much a unit in language as the oneness of Napo- 
leon who commands it ; while in nature their oneness is very 
dissimilar. 

§ 6. — In these cases, experience neutralizes the implied one- 
ness ; but the delusion is subtle, where we cannot obviously 
compare the multiformity of nature with the oneness of lan- 
guage ; — for instance, wisdom is as much a unit in language 
as the moon. The countless actions, &c, which are denomi- 
nated wisdom, possess a homogeneity which makes one name 
applicable to them all ; but to impute to these countless actions 
the oneness of the name, is to commit the errour that I am 
anxious to display : — it is to interpret nature by language, when 
we ought to interpret language by nature. 

§ 7. — The particulars which we can discover in nature, are all 
which truly pertain to nature. 

The main delusion of alchymy consisted in assuming that the 
colour, weight, fixedness, malleability, &c, of gold, are append- 
ages of a mysterious unit. To discover this unit, constituted 
alchymy. The alchymist never supposed that the above qualities 
and others are the unit of which he was in search. He disre- 
garded these, and sought for some unit that would agree in one- 
ness with the oneness of the word gold. He sought in nature 
for what exists in language only. We laugh at the exploded 
labours of alchymy, but we laugh more from having abandoned 
the search in despair, than from having discovered the fallacy on 
which the search is founded. Kindred researches are still com- 
mon. Magnetism is sought as a unit, and gravity, electricity, 
repulsion, aurora borealis, vitality, impregnation, animality, 
power, causation, &c. 



62 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

§ 8. — In nature, we find magnet A, that will suspend a weight 
of twenty pounds, and magnet B, that will suspend but an ounce. 
We find the polarity of a magnetick needle, with its variations, 
its wanderings, and its dip, &c. ; and while we apply correctly 
the word magnetism to these and as many other phenomena as 
we deem sufficiently homogeneous to be included under a com- 
mon name, we gain nothing but delusion in attributing to them 
a oneness like that which is implied by the name. Their true 
oneness is the homogeneity that we discover in them, and which 
induces us to call them all magnetism. . The verbal oneness is 

a property of our own creation. 

« 

§ 9. — Medical science is probably embarrassed by our imputing 
to diseases and their incidents, the oneness which pertains to 
their names only. 

The medical question of contagion is embarrassed by not 
discriminating the oneness of language from the plurality of 
nature. The contagiousness of cholera generally is less a unit 
than the contagiousness of a single case. Even the contagious- 
ness of a single case, during its whole continuance, is less a 
unit than its contagiousness on any given moment : — hence, to 
investigate the contagiousness of cholera, and to proceed by 
supposing that the contagiousness possesses the oneness which 
the word contagion imports, is like seeking for magnetism as a 
unit among the numerous magnetic phenomena. It is seeking 
in nature for a unit that exists in language only. 

§ 10. — But cholera itself is not a unit. Whether medical 
science suffers not by the implied oneness of each disease, 
merits the consideration of physicians. Many medical theories 
seem to owe their origin to this errour. But not only is cholera 
in general not a unit, the particular cholera of Thomas is not a 
unit. It consists of many feels, sights, and other phenomena. 
I admit the propriety of combining them under one name ; but 
if we would escape delusion, we must construe their oneness 
by nature, and not by the oneness of their name. 



LECT. IV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 63 

§ 11. — Our moral speculations also are embarrassed by imputing 
to nature the oneness which exists in language only. 

Is a man a unit, as strictly as language implies ? Should I 
attempt to discover wherein his oneness consists, (and volumes 
have been written on the subject,) I might seem to discuss 
humanity very profoundly, but I should discuss it very igno- 
rantly. I should seek in nature for what is merely a contrivance 
of language : — for instance, amputate one of Peter's arms, will 
the remainder of Peter be a man ? How much excision of his 
body must occur, before the remainder will cease to be a man ? 
Such questions are not deemed trifling. We interpret nature 
by the oneness of the word man, instead of interpreting the 
oneness of the word man by the exhibitions of nature. The 
errour seems to me so gross, that I should doubt its existence, 
were not the evidence too explicit to be mistaken. 

§ 12. — In what consists the consciousness of a man ? in what 
consists his identity ? have been debated, and they are still 
debated, with the most surprising ignorance of the delusion 
which gives to the questions their perplexity. Consciousness 
is supposed to possess as much natural oneness as it possesses 
verbal oneness ; while, in truth, the consciousness of a man is 
the many phenomena to which the word refers, — -precisely as 
the wealth of a man is the various items of his property to which 
the word wealth refers. 

§ 13. — What governs the will? — how acts volition on our 
limbs ? — how is the soul united to the body? — and how mind 
acts on matter, and matter on mind? — are questions which 
derive their perplexity from severally implying the existence of 
some unit. The search after the unit is the delusion. 

§ 14. — Gravity, which effects so much in astronomical theo- 
ries, — which has displaced Atlas, and equals him in oneness, — 
is still, so far as relates to its oneness, but a delusion of language. 
The word gravity names many interesting and important pheno- 
mena ; but if, in addition to these, we look for gravity itself, 



64 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

we act as ignorantly as the child at the opera, who, after listen- 
ing with impatience to the musick, singing, and dancing, said, 
" I am tired of these ; I want the opera." 

§ 15. — The delusion by which we look for the unit gravity 
among the various phenomena of which gravity is the name, 
and for the unit man among the various parts of our formation, 
is analogous to the ancient puzzle denominated sorites: — A 
heap of wheat is exhibited to a person, and you proceed with 
him among the individual grains, to look for the heap itself. 
You take up a grain, and ask him if that is the heap. You 
proceed thus with every grain, till the whole will be exhausted 
without finding the heap. 

§ 16. — Some units are a sensible aggregation, and some a 
verbal aggregation. 

The word heap signifies a sight and a feel, and hence possesses 
an existence and a oneness without reference to the separate 
grains of which the heap is composed; — while the unit gravity 
possesses in nature no existence independently of its constituent 
parts. Gravity, as a unit, is a verbal aggregation ; while the 
heap, as a unit, is a sensible aggregation. This distinction 
is highly deserving of consideration. Language disregards 
the distinction; the verbal oneness being equally complete in 
both cases. 



§ 17. — We invent theories to supply the unit which we suppose 
must exist, but which we fail from finding in nature. 

To the mistake by which we transfer to nature the oneness 
that exists in language, we owe a large portion of our theories. 
The theories supply the unit that we vainly seek in nature, but 
which we erroneously suppose must exist: — for instance, the 
unit magnetism is alleged to be some subtile and invisible ema- 
nation or fluid; — the unit temperature is another radiating and 
insensible fluid; — gravity another. The unit vitality is an irri- 
tability of fibre, and the unit sound is a vibration of the atmo- 
sphere. The unit is sometimes deemed an undiscoverable 



LECT. IV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 65 

essence ; sometimes an agitation of the brain ; sometimes an 
insensible repulsion of insensible parts ; sometimes an internal 
combustion ; and sometimes an external explosion. 

§ 18. — So far as theories are useful, they are of course de- 
sirable. I wish to merely show that we attribute to nature the 
oneness which exists in language ; and that we usually invent 
a theory to supply the exigency created by our mistaken appre 
hensions of nature. The practice will continue till we shall 
learn to interpret and qualify words by the revelation of our 
senses ; instead of interpreting and qualifying the revelation of 
our senses by the implied oneness of words. 



66 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



LECTURE V. 



LANGUAGE IMPLIES IDENTITIES TO WHICH NATURE CONFORMS 

NOT. 

§ 1. — Having, in my last two lectures, shown that we impute 
to nature a oneness which belongs to language only, I shall now 
show that we impute to nature an identity which belongs to 
language only. 

§ 2. — Language is a collection of general terms, but creation 
is a congregation of individual existences. 

Nine hundred and ninety-seven millions of beings exist, to 
whom we apply the word man. Amid the varieties of their 
complexion, stature, hair, features, age, sex, structure, habits, 
and knowledge, enough similarities are discoverable to make 
the word man appropriate to all. No two are, perhaps, iden- 
tical in their general appearance, nor in the appearance of any 
particular part. They differ, also, individually from each other, 
in many qualities besides the appearance. 

The word man, therefore, refers to a mass of dissimilar indi- 
viduals. Every word is equally general in its signification. By 
means of their generality, a few thousand words comprehend 
all created existences. Nature is a congregation of individual 
existences, and language a collection of general terms. 

§ 3. — We interpret the identity of existences by the identity of 
their name. 

"When we wish to disparage Napoleon, we say, he was but a 
man ; and when we wish to exalt a simpleton, we say, he is a 
man as well as Napoleon. The alleged identity is correct, if we 
interpret it by the similarities that we discover in the compared 
individuals; but the identity is alleged to imply a similarity 



LECT. V.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 67 

beyond what we discover in the two individuals, and even to 
control the differences that they exhibit. This is an insidious 
errour, and it constitutes the subject of the present discourse. 

We disregard the individuality of nature, and substitute for 
it a generality which belongs to language. 

§ 4. — The identity which language implies has embarrassed 

medicine. 

Medical science long suffered by the delusion which we are 
investigating. It still suffers measurably. Diseases possess 
sufficient resemblances to be classed under general names ; 
hence we possess the words peripneumony, pleurisy, rheuma- 
tism, &c. I censure not physicians for constructing the names, 
nor for deciding that Thomas and Henry are severally afflicted 
with pleurisy ; but their diseases are not as identical in nature 
as in language. 

§ 5. — Individuality is characteristick of nature. 

The identity which language implies is responded to by nature 
very nearly, or we could possess no medical science ; but the 
most skilful physician is often defeated by the individualities of 
nature. Physicians have long detected these individualities, and 
deemed them anomalies of nature. The anomaly is, however, 
in language, which unites under one name, as identities, what is 
only partially identical. Individuality is no anomaly of nature. 
It is nature's regular production, and boundless richness. 

§ 6.— No two parcels of calomel possess the perfect identity 
which the sameness of their name implies. No two men pos- 
sess the perfect identity which the sameness of their manhood 
implies ; nor possesses any one man, at all times, and under all 
circumstances, the complete identity with which language invests 
his individuality. 



68 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

$ 7. — The identity which language implies is always complete, 
but nature approximates in various degrees only to a perfect 
identity. 

Language implies always a perfect identity ; nature exhibits, 
in some cases, a greater approximation to identity than in other 
cases. For instance: — in two flakes of snow, the snow pre- 
sents an identity which is almost complete ; but in a whale and 
anchovy, the fish of both animals presents a very incomplete 
identity. The fish of the whale and anchovy is, however, as 
identical verbally, as the snow of the two flakes. 

§ 8. — Again, a polypus and an elephant are animals, and the 
animahty of both is identical in language ; in nature, the identity 
is less than even the identity of the fish. 

§ 9. — Iron is matter — a sunbeam is matter. Their mate- 
riality is identical in language, while in nature we discover in 
it less identity than we discover in even the animality of the 
polypus and elephant. 

§ 10. — We should not confound the verbal identity with the 
realities of nature. 

I complain not of language for its implied identities. We 
can construct a language on no other principle. A whale and 
an anchovy present sufficient similarities to render the word fish 
appropriate to both : still we need not confound the verbal iden- 
tity with the realities of nature. In nature, the identity is just 
as we discover it to be. It must not be measured by names, 
but ascertained by observation. We reverse this rule : we 
interpret the natural identity by the verbal. 

§ 11. — Failing to discover in nature the identity which lan- 
guage implies, but believing thai it must exist somewhere in 
nature, we mistake it for a mysterious property of creation. 

No man observes so superficially as not to discover in natural 
productions an endless diversity. Children say, that no two 



LECT. V.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 69 

blades of grass are alike. Still, the difference in the blades we 
estimate as not effecting their identity as grass. But what is 
the identity of grass, beyond the sensible resemblance, &c, of 
the different blades ? Nothing but the name grass. We deem 
the identity a hidden property of nature, while it is only a pro- 
perty of language. 

$ 12. — We transfer to nature a generalization which belongs 
to language. 

Botanists say, that oats, barley, and wheat, are ' also grass ; 
and when we become botanists, we see that the name is appro- 
priate. We are, however, deceived, if we suppose that in these 
different existences some property exists, which is as identical 
as the identity of the word grass. We are transferring to 
nature a generalization of language. 

§ 13.— The diversity which we discover among natural objects, 
<$-c, that possess the same name, should teach us to correct 
the identity implied by their name ; but we employ the verbal 
identity to excite wonder at the natural diversity. 

The question is deemed profound which asks how the soul 
is united to the body; — how the movements of a man's limbs 
are united to his volition; — how heat and light are united in 
flame; — how coldness and hardness are united in ice. The 
union, in these cases, is deemed identical with the union of the 
arm to the shoulder; and hence the wonder and the fallacy. 
Should a man ask how the arm is united to the shoulder, we 
could show him the ligatures, &c, and he would be satisfied. 
He would be equally satisfied with what he discovers of light 
and heat in flame, did he not believe that the word union, as 
applied to the light and heat, meant the same as the word union 
when applied to my arm and shoulder. The diversity which he 
finds in nature between the two unions, fails to teach him that 
the verbal identity is fallacious. He employs the verbal identity 
to show that the natural diversity is mysterious. 

§ 14. — Light passes through solid crystal. This many per- 
sons deem a standing miracle. What we see excites no sur- 



70 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

prise. The passage through the solid crystal is the marvel. 
We know the difficulty which would attend the passage of our 
hand through the crystal, and we deem the passage of the light 
identical with the passage of the hand. Nothing is more falla- 
cious than thus to construe the word passage in these different 
uses of it. The two operations possess the requisite analogy 
to make the word passage applicable to both, but its meaning 
in each application is what our senses reveal, and not what 
the identity of the word implies. The passage of the light 
through crystal is a sight only ; the passage of my hand is a 
sight and a feel. 

§ 15. — A spark causes gunpowder to explode. This is 
curious. But speculation wonders not at the explosion, but 
that we cannot discover the connexion which exists between 
the touch of the spark and the explosion. Mankind would not 
have attached the word connexion to the spark and explosion, 
if the word was not appropriate ; but if we infer that the con- 
nexion is identical with the connexion exhibited by two links of 
a chain, and seek in nature for such a link, we are deluded. 
Nature is boundlessly diverse ; and all that we can accomplish 
is, to group the diversities under such general terms as alone 
can compose a finite language. 

§ 16. — Language, in its ability to designate individual exist- 
ences, is like colours in their ability to depict the variety of 
nature. 

When a painter undertakes to represent nature, he finds an 
infinity of natural tints, while he possesses only a finite number 
of artificial colours with which to effect the representation. So, 
when he undertakes to discourse of nature, he finds an infinity 
of phenomena, while he possesses only a finite number of words 
with which to form his discourse. 

§ 17. — The colour which on one occasion the painter employs 
to portray the moon, he, on another occasion, employs to repre- 
sent water; — so the word which on one occasion a speaker 
employs to designate the relation that exists between two links 



1ECT. V*] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 71 

of a chain, he employs on another occasion to designate the 
relation that exists between a spark and an explosion. 

§ 18. — The painter and the speaker act from a kindred prin- 
ciple ; the painter discovers in the moon and the water an 
analogy which makes one colour appropriate to both ; and the 
speaker discovers in the links, and the spark, and explosion, an 
analogy which makes the word connexion appropriate to both. 

§ 19. — Verbal disquisitions will be erroneous till we cease from 
imputing to nature the identities which belong to language. 

But in one point the painter differs from the speaker. The 
painter knows that the identity of colour [between the water and 
the moon], exists only in the imperfection of his materials ; 
while the speaker knows not that the identity of " connexion " 
[between the links of a chain, and the spark and explosion], exists 
only in the imperfection of language. Yet this truth must be 
learnt before we can extricate ourselves from the errours in 
which nearly all verbal disquisitions are involved. 

§ 20. — The meaning of the word identity varies with the object 
to which it is applied. 

The word identity itself is merely a general term, expressive 
of a multitude of varying existences and relations. A man who 
is blind from his birth, knows roundness by the feel. Should 
he attain sight and see a ball, he will not recognise it as the 
round object of his former amusement. When, however, he 
shall have learnt roundness by the sight, he may inquire how 
the visible ball and the tangible are identical. Their identity is 
different from the identity of his person now, and his person a 
few moments previously. The identity of John when an infant, 
and the same John when a decrepid old man, differs from both 
the other identities. The identity which exists between an 
acorn and the oak from which it originated, differs from all the 
other identities. To seek in each of these cases for something 
that is common to them all, and as similar in all as the similarity 



72 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

of the word identity which we apply to them all, is to seek in 
nature for what is only a contrivance of language. 

§ 21. — We subordinate nature to language, instead of subordi- 
nating language to nature. 

To ask how the visible ball and the tangible are identical, 
displays the perverse manner in which we interpret language. 
Instead of asking language how the two phenomena are iden- 
tical, we should ask our senses what the verbal identity signifies. 
We apply the word identical to many dissimilar phenomena ; 
and instead of imputing the verbal identity to a necessary 
stratagem of language, we impute the natural diversity to 
a mystery of nature. The visible ball and the tangible ex 
hibit not what some other identities exhibit ; hence we are per 
plexed. Nothing but a long habit of subordinating nature to 
language can account for our not discovering, in the diverse 
applications of the word identical, that the alleged identity is 
a mere license of language, and the discoverable diversity but 
the ordinary individuality of nature. 

§ 22. — No two existences are as identical in nature as in name. 

After an assayer pronounces two bars to be gold, I shall not 
know correctly what even their identity signifies, till he shows 
me the phenomena to which his decision refers. Their identity 
possesses not the unqualified sameness which exists in the 
name gold. 

§ 23. — The identity which language implies is the expedient 
by which a finite language comprehends an infinitely diverse 
creation. 

Men agree on the standard which decides whether two bars 
are gold, but a like agreement exists not in every alleged iden- 
tity. One man will deem no two things identical, unless they 
exhibit the phenomena which constitute his personal identity. 
He knows not that the natural identity of any two objects is 
only what the objects display ; and that the complete identity 



LECT. V.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 73 

which is implied by the sameness of their name is merely a 
human contrivance, by which an infinitely diverse creation is 
comprehended by a finite vocabulary : comprehended as well as 
we can, in groups of much similarity, under the word gold ; in 
groups of less similarity under the word metal ; and in groups 
of but little similarity, under the word mineral. 

§ 24. — Imputing to nature the identity which exists in lan- 
guage, causes much fallacious speculation. 

Heat, whether solar or culinary, chemical or animal, is deemed 
as identical in nature as in language. So far the fallacy is free 
from much absurdity. But the prepossession which induces us 
to deem all heats identical, induces us to deem their causes 
equally identical ; hence, solar heat is considered either chemi- 
cal or igneous. An alternative is pleasant, but philosophers are 
almost unanimous that the sun is fire. Even the years are 
numbered which must elapse before its combustible parts will 
be exhausted. Whether this continues the scientific romance of 
the day, I know not, and care not. The theory may be changed, 
but the errour which originated it remains. Pursuing the verbal 
identity of solar and terrestrial fire, astronomers find that some 
planets, by approaching the sun, become periodically hotter than 
iron in fusion ; and comets accumulate heat enough to retain, 
after a century's absence, a sufficiency for comfort 

§ 25. — These are the calculations of men with whom I pre- 
sume not to contend, except where they delusively impute to 
nature the identity which exists only in language — a delusion 
which has been indulged by astronomers, till they have fabri- 
cated wilder romances than ever fiction created intentionally. 

§ 26. — Again, stone is matter ; air, light, water, man, earth, 
and sun, are severally matter. That matter is as identical in 
nature as in name, is believed with all the simplicity of an 
undisturbed prepossession in favour of the errour. Creation 
displays in vain its diversities. The variety only augments our 
admiration at the implied identity. 

4 



74 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART 1. 

§ 27. — So far, however, the absurdity is moderate compared 
with the chimeras which we produce, when, in pursuance of 
the implied identity of matter, we invest a sunbeam with hard- 
ness, bulk, particles, resistance, and every other essential pro- 
perty of stone. We are then taught to admire that light, so 
constituted, can fall with a velocity almost inconceivable, and 
from a height almost inexpressible, and not merely leave our 
houses unbattered, but leave us unconscious of the blows which 
are inflicted on even our eyes. 

§ 28. — Light moves from the sun to the earth, and a coach 
moves from Utica to Albany. The word motion is proper in 
both phrases ; but when we deem the motions as identical in 
nature as in language, we are transferring to nature what is 
simply a property of language. The mistake is unimportant. 
till, by virtue of the supposed identity, we attribute to the motion 
of light the concomitants of the coach's motion. Proceeding 
thus, we calculate that during one vibration of a clock's pendu- 
lum, light moves, as consecutively as the coach, one hundred 
and sixty thousand miles. 

§ 29. — I lately saw a little book* which teaches children 
occult doctrines. The child's curiosity is excited by the inform- 
ation that he and stones possess many properties in common : — 
colour, form, substance, hardness, bulk, resistance, mobility, &c. 

§ 30. — That the child and the stone are identical in some 
particulars, is the marvel and the fallacy. So far as the identity 
is verbal, the child knows the identity. So far as you impute 
to nature the identity which exists in the words, you are deluding 
him. In the same way, youth are taught that male and female, 
when applied to plants, are identical in meaning with male and 
female when applied to animals ; and thus we obtain from youth 
an interest for botany at the cost of their understanding. 

§ 31. — We teach a child that certain stars are suns. We 
court his belief that the identity is as complete naturally as 

* The Child's Book on the Soul. 



LECT. V.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 75 

verbally. Beyond all ordinary visibility and all telescopic, other 
suns, we say, exist ; still wishing him to believe that the identity 
of language and of nature are one. This verbal delusion, to 
which teachers and scholars are usually alike victims, exalts, 
we say, creation. Miserable compliment ! Creation needs not 
romance for its exaltation, nor the perversion of reason for its 
glory. 

§ 32. — We tell a pupil that the earth travels with various 
velocities, and various motions, wishing him to believe that the 
motions and velocities are identical in nature with the motions 
and velocities of a steamboat. This errour is so monstrous and 
so general, that it presents a wonderful example of the delusion 
by which we transfer to nature the identity of language. The 
motions and velocities of the earth are a good theory ; but that 
they are more than our senses reveal, and especially that they 
should be deemed identical with the motions and velocities of a 
steamboat, are neither necessary to the theory, nor useful That 
men have invented laws and calculations, whose results coin- 
cide with the sensible phenomena of the heavenly bodies, is 
creditable to human knowledge, and useful to human pursuits ; 
but we need not vitiate our knowledge, and sully its glory, by 
interpreting astronomical theories by the identities of language, 
instead of the revelation of our senses 

§ 33. — Estimating nature by the identities of language misleads 
us in natural history, geography, $c. 

Natural history suffer by the implied identity of its objects. 
Eagles are discussed as identical, men as identical, whales as 
identical, lions as identical. So far as we can speak of proper- 
ties that are discoverable in every lion, a general account is not 
delusive ; but we are prone to attribute to every lion the pro- 
perty of each, misled by an identity among them which exists 
no where completely but in their name. To discourse of groups 
of animals as identities is probably the only method by which 
we can possess any natural history ; but we need not aggravate 
the evil by deeming their verbal identity a property of nature. 



76 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

§. 34. — To read Captain Parry's narrative of his Arctic expe- 
dition, seems to make my knowledge identical with his ; but he 
acquired new sights, and new phenomena of every sense ; while 
his narrative gives me new combinations of words only — or any 
way, a knowledge different from his, how identical soever may 
be the words with which we speak of it. 

§ 35. — Two men, who assent to the same general proposition, 
may possess very diverse meanings. 

In the use of general propositions, much misunderstanding 
occurs from the identity of language and the diversity of nature. 
If I assert that George is good, you may assent. Under this 
verbal identity, I may refer to actions of George that are un- 
known to you ; and you may refer to actions unknown to me. 
Nay, the actions to which I refer might cause you to reprobate 
George. 

§ 36. — Out expressions are often identical, when our meanings 
are diverse. 

You and I may^e well acquainted with Thomas ; still, when 
we see his portrait, y^u may deem the likeness excellent, while 
I may call it execrable. While we speak of the appearance of 
Thomas, our knowledge sterns identical ; but our different 
estimations of the portrait proxe that our knowledge is diverse. 
When we view Thomas, we take hot necessarily the same view. 
I may habitually contemplate his profile, and you his bust ; I 
may notice his chin, and you his forehead. 

§ 37. — Estimating thoughts by the identity which their name 
implies, has prevented us from noting the natural diversity 
which thoughts exhibit. 

I will burden you with only one further illustration of the 
difference between the identity which language implies, and the 
diversity which nature possesses. The illustration possesses, 
however, an importance which makes it merit your attention. 



LECT. V.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 77 



§ 38. — Thoughts are divisible into six different classes. 

We can think of the appearance of the moon, and we can 
think of the word moon. In both cases we are said to think 
of the moon ; but, in nature, the two thoughts differ from each 
other, as much as a sight differs from a word. Instead of 
possessing the identity which the name implies, thoughts are 
divisible into six different classes. A disregard of this diversity- 
produces much of the mystery with which thinking is usually 
invested in our discussions of it. 

§ 39. — One class of thoughts are words. 

Professor Stewart says,* " some men, even in their private 
speculations, not only use words as an instrument of thought, 
but form the words into sentences. ,, 

§ 40. — What is thus alleged, is true of all men ; but the 
remark attaches to only one class of thoughts. Think the word 
million. The thought is a word. When we pronounce million 
audibly, it is a word ; when we pronounce it inaudibly, it is a 
thought. 

§ 41. — In the production of verbal thoughts, an agency of the 
organs of speech is discoverable. 

If you repeat in thought the alphabet, you may employ your 
organs of speech so forcibly, that the thoughts will require but 
a little more energy to become audible words. Endeavour to 
avoid an agency of the tongue, lips, and breath, you will detect 
a slight agency, and of the tongue especially. The more freely 
we permit the tongue's movements, the more distinctly we can 
think the alphabet. If you stand before a mirror and protrude 
your tongue, you will see it either dilate or thicken, as each 
letter is pronounced in thought. The experiment must be made 
with letters whose articulation is lingual. 

* On the Mind, Vol. I, p. 36. 



78 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



§ 42. — Verbal thoughts are limited, like audible words, to a 
consecutive formation. 

We cannot think the word George, while we are speaking 
the word Thomas ; nor can we pronounce Thomas, while we 
are thinking George. Speech is limited to an utterance of suc- 
cessive syllables. Verbal thoughts require a similar succession 
of syllables. The phrase " our father," we can no more con- 
dense into one thought, than we can pronounce the words in 
one articulation. 

From long attention to these coincidences, my verbal thoughts 
are as evidently the production of my organs of speech, and 
located in my mouth, as words are. 

§ 43. — The identity which exists between verbal thoughts and 
mere words, is closer than the generality of identities. 

We do not think of words as our theories lead us to say, 
but we think words themselves. A Frenchman thinks French 
words, and an Englishman, English. An uneducated man 
thinks ungrammatical sentences, and a rude man, vulgar sen- 
tences. Professor Blair was more literally correct than he 
supposed, when he said, " that a person who is learning to 
arrange his words correctly, is learning to think correctly." 

§ 44. — One class of thoughts is characteristically sights. 

But verbal thoughts are only one class of the six classes into 
which thoughts are divisible. We can think the word moon, as 
I have stated, which will be a verbal thought ; and we can think 
the appearance of the moon, which is a visual thought. Visual 
thoughts possess the evanescence of vision. They flash and 
vanish. They possess also the comprehensiveness of vision. 
We comprehend in one gaze the whole starry firmament, and 
our thought of the firmament is as capacious as the gaze, and 
apparently as remote from our contact. 



LECT. V.J A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 79 



§ 45. — The remaining four classes of thoughts are charac- 
teristically sounds, tastes, feels, and smells. 

The remaining four classes of thoughts are characteristically 
sounds, tastes, feels, and smells. Each class conforms to the 
peculiarities of the sense with whose phenomena it is conna- 
tural. The last pressure of an absent friend, when it recurs to 
me in thought, rests seemingly upon my hand with the contaction 
which pertains to the sense of feeling, 

§ 46. — The thoughts which I class as smells, possess the limit- 
ation that pertains to the perception of -odours. 

The thoughts which I class as smells, possess the limitation 
that pertains to the perception of odours. We can no more 
combine in one thought the distinct fragrance of a rose, and the 
fetor of assafcetida, than we can realize them separately in one 
inspiration. 

§ 47. — Tastes possess in thought the singleness which attends 
the reception of tastes. 

Tastes also possess in thought the singleness which attends 
the reception of tastes. Vinegar and water yield not their 
tastes separately when placed together on our tongue, but com- 
bine to form a single taste. Thought also cannot present us 
the two tastes simultaneously. 

§ 48. — The recollection of sounds differs from the recollection 
of articulations. 

To think of sounds conforms so nearly to actual hearing, that 
I have heard a musician require silence from his auditors when 
he was recollecting a tune. 

Many voices, uttered confusedly together, are recollected in 
one clamour, as we heard them. In this, the recollection of 
sounds differs characteristically from the recollection of words. 



80 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

Words can be thought of in only the syllabick succession of 
oral utterance.* 



§ 49. — We construe nature by the forms of language, instead 
of construing language by the revelations of nature. 

If you cannot catch my meaning by a few hints, you will not 

by a tedious detail. To me, the fact is evident, that the identity 

which is implied by the word thought, is not responded to by 

nature with any like identity, but by six classes of dissimilar 

phenomena. That this obvious truth has escaped detection by 

all the acute men who have investigated thought, is imputable 

to the inveterate prepossession which makes us construe nature 

by the forms of language, instead of construing language by the 

revelations of nature. 

> 

§ 50.- — Dumb mutes possess neither verbal thoughts nor 
auricular thoughts. 

A knowledge of the preceding classification is exceedingly 
useful : for instance, what thoughts have the dumb ? Their 
defect of utterance prevents the formation of verbal thoughts, 
and the defect of hearing prevents auricular thoughts.! The 
dumb, therefore, are deficient of all thoughts that consist of 
words, and of all thoughts that consist of sounds. They pos- 
sess but four classes of thought, while we possess six. 

$ 51. — To acquire a written language ivill not give the dumb 
verbal thoughts. 

When the dumb acquire a written language, their misfortune 
is remedied less effectively than is usually supposed ; for a 

* We can think of words as sounds, but they are usually thought of as words, 
by a very palpable agency of our organs of speech. 

f Words are sounds to the hearer, but to the speaker they are certain movements 
of his organs of speech ; hence verbal thoughts are more characteristically feels 
than sounds. 



LECT. V.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 81 

written word, when thought of by the dumb, constitutes but a 
visual thought, possessing all the evanescence of vision. When 
we think oral words, the thoughts possess the stability of speech. 

§ 52. — Infants possess no verbal thoughts. 

While language is unknown, infants can possess no verbal 
thoughts. Sights, sounds, feels, tastes, and smells, they can 
think, to the extent of their experience. Children obtain not 
early a facility of thinking inaudibly. They usually think aloud 
the few words which they first acquire ; and hence the constant 
repetition of words by infants. 

§ 53. — A paralysis of the tongue impedes verbal thinking. 

Whether madness uniformly attacks all classes of the ma- 
niack's thoughts, may be worth the examination of physicians. 
A paralysis of the organs of speech affects verbal thinking 
nearly as much as it affects speaking ; while the other classes 
of thought are unimpaired. The paralytick recognises, by sight, 
his friends, but he cannot recollect their names. He also recals, 
in visual thought, his absent friends, with a like inability of 
recollecting their names. 

§ 54.— -Practically, we are well aware of the difference which 
exists in the nature of our thoughts. 

I heard a gentleman refuse to look on his deceased friend, 
because he wished to think of his friend in no other way than 
as he appeared when alive. The remark surprised no one. It 
is founded on our experience of the limitation of visual thoughts. 
With verbal thoughts he can think of the deceased in any state 
of decay that language can express, whether he view him or 
not. To create a new verbal thought, and to construct a new 
sentence, are similar operations, except that the new sentence is 
articulated, and the new thought is inarticulate. 



82 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

§ 55. — These observations on thought are simply to show 
that the identity which language implies is not responded to by 
nature with an equal identity. We measure the natural identity 
by the verbal, instead of interpreting the verbal by the natural. 
I am anxious to free you from this errour ; and if I have suc- 
ceeded, the tediousness of an abstruse discourse may well be 
endured. 



&ECT. VI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 83 



LECTURE VI. 



WORDS CAN BE DIVESTED OF SIGNIFICATION, AND STILL FORM- 
ED INTO PROPOSITIONS WHICH WILL NOT BE OBVIOUSLY UN- 
MEANING. 

In the natural world, the objects which are most abundant are 
those that are most necessary to the preservation of life. Air 
.and water, for instance, are so common, as to be pecuniarily 
valueless. 

In the moral world, also, the qualities which are most preva- 
lent, are those that are most essential to the preservation of 
society. Forbearance from homicide is so common a virtue, 
that it possesses not even a name. 

By a like principle, objects, of both the natural and moral 
world, exist in rareness, just in proportion as they are unessen- 
tial to the common ends of life. The exalted integrity, for 
instance, that spurns the slightest indirection, — and the scrupu- 
lous truth, that bends to no expediency, — compare in rareness 
with the diamond that sparkles on the breast of wealth only, 
and with the plate which loads the sideboards of the conspi- 
cuous few. 

In the intellectual world, a kindred dispensation is discov- 
erable. The knowledge which is sufficient to procure the 
necessaries of life, is discoverable in the most uneducated 
individual ; while a knowledge either of the latent subtility of 
language, or of the muscular motions necessary to produce the 
portraits of Stuart, is as rare as it is unessential to the pre- 
servation of society. 

Although, then, we may, without the information that I de- 
liver, remain qualified for the stations in which Providence has 
placed us, yet all who would correctly understand speculative 
learning, can in no way so effectually secure the object as by 
acquiring a knowledge of the latent properties of language. 



84 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



§ 1. — Words can be divested of their sensible signification. 

William and Thomas, when spoken with reference to two 
men, are significant appellations ; but if I apply the names to 
nullity, the words partake immediately of the nothingness to 
which I apply them. 

This principle, how obvious soever it may seem, has escaped 
the vigilance of the most acute, and supplied speculation with 
its most perplexing doctrines. 

§ 2. — The word weight names a fee-l. The feel is discovera- 
ble in a feather, in a piece of lead, and in nearly every object. 
The word possessed no significancy before its introduction into 
language, and it now possesses* none apart from the feel that 
it designates. 

§ 3. — Admit, then, that weight names a feel, and observe how 
speciously I can employ the word after I divest it of significa- 
tion : thus, " many objects are too small to be seen with the 
unassisted eye ; and some, the most powerful microscope can 
render but just visible ; we may therefore well believe that 
numerous atoms are so small that no microscope can reveal 
them : still, each must possess colour, shape, and weight." 

§ 4. — Now observe, if weight names a feel, how has the word 
any signification when we predicate it of an atom, in which 
confessedly the feel cannot be experienced ? What feel is that 
which cannot be felt ? We have subtracted from the word its 
significancy, and left a vacated sound. It becomes weight 
minus weight. 

§ 5. — Again: take the word atom — what is it? The name 
of a sight and a feel. Its sensible meaning I can teach you 
only by showing you, or permitting you to feel, some object, of 
which thereafter atom will be a name. I can show that a 
microscope enables us to see objects where vision unassisted 
can discover nothing. These sights, also, I can inform you are 
atoms. But when I say atoms exist which cannot be seen or 



LECT. VI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 85 

felt, I divest the word of signification. We may apply the word 
atom to a taste, sound, or smell, and speak of an atom of taste, 
or an atom of sound, or smell ; but when we use the word where 
nothing is discoverable, it designates nothing, and is nothing but 
the sound of which it is constituted. 

§ 6. — Again: colour is an attribute of the atoms that we 
have been considering. Colour names a sight ; but in the above 
proposition, it is used for what is invisible : hence the word is 
divested of signification, and nothing remains but a vacated 
sound. A man that can neither be seen nor felt, is not a 
greater nullity than an invisible colour. The defect is similar 
in both cases : — the words are divested of signification. 

§ 7. — We are vigilant in detecting verbal contradictions, but 
toe never detect the sensible contradiction which exists in 
affirming the presence of sensible existences, where none are 
discoverable by the senses. 

We may learn from even this slight investigation, that words 
can be deprived of intelligence, and still formed into proposi- 
tions which will not be obviously futile. We are vigilant to 
detect any verbal contradiction in a proposition, but we never 
notice the latent contradiction which arises from predicating 
sensible phenomena where they are confessedly undiscoverable : 
thus, should you affirm that an object is heavy and not heavy, 
or visible and invisible, all persons would ridicule the affirma- 
tion : but no essential difference exists between such proposi- 
tions and those which speak of a weight that cannot be felt, 
and of a colour that cannot be seen. 

§ 8. — Words, divested of signification, may still be employed 
in all the processes of logick. 

Zeno's paradox respecting motion is an example of the inanity 
to which we may arrive by the foregoing misuse of language, 
even when we pursue the most logical deductions. Thus, say 
that a tortoise is a mile before Achilles, and that Achilles runs 
a hundred times faster than the tortoise, yet he will never over- 



86 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

take it " because, says Zeno, when Achilles has run the mile, 
the tortoise will have moved forward the hundredth part of a 
mile ; and while Achilles runs the said hundredth part of a mile, 
the tortoise has moved forward the ten thousandth part of a 
mile ; so that it is not yet overtaken. In the same manner, 
whilst Achilles passes over the ten thousandth part of a mile, 
the tortoise moves on the millionth part of a mile, and is not 
yet overtaken ; and so on, ad infinitum. 

§ 9. — Though the proposition is palpably preposterous, the 
defect of its reasoning has never been explained ; nor is it 
explicable on any other principle, than that its words become 
insignificant the moment they are used where nothing sensible 
is discoverable : for instance, " while Achilles passes over the 
hundredth part of a mile, the tortoise moves on the ten thou- 
sandth part of a mile." The ten thousandth part of a mile is 
between six and seven inches. It names a sight and a feel ; 
hence the tortoise is not yet overtaken : — but the proposition 
proceeds, — " Whilst Achilles passes over this ten thousandth 
part of a mile, the tortoise moves on the millionth part of a 
mile." The millionth part of a mile leaves them asunder about 
the fifteenth part of an inch, which names a sight and a feel ; 
hence the tortoise is not yet overtaken. But the next step is 
a quibble. It affirms, that whilst Achilles passes over this 
millionth part of a mile, the tortoise moves on the hundred 
millionth part of a mile. This is a name without any corre- 
sponding existence in nature, hence the sophistry and quibble. 
The last step is absurd, not from any defect of logick, but 
because the words are become divested of signification.* 

§ 10. — The new Edinburgh Encyclopedia says, "it would 
not be easy to solve this quibble were we to measure motion 
by space merely, without taking in the idea of time." This 
explication is only the substitution of a new quibble. The 
tortoise will not be overtaken so long as it is a minute the start 
of Achilles ; but when the time which separates them is the 



* The words retain a verbal signification, which is discussed hereafter : see also 
Lectures XV, and XXII. 



LECT. VI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 87 

hundred millionth part of a minute, the words will have no 
archetype among sensible phenomena, and will be divested of 
signification. 

§11 . — Verbally, no limit exists to the divisibility of matter ; 
for every thing possesses two halves, and when you have divided 
it, each half becomes immediately a whole endued with halves ; 
and so in infinitum. The conclusion is irrefragable. It is also 
true practically, while the words possess any sensible significa- 
tion ; but after a certain number of divisions, the word half will 
refer to neither a sight nor a feel, and become as insignificant as 
the hundred millionth part of a mile which separates Achilles 
from the tortoise. The words in both cases become divested of 
meaning, hence the defect is alike in both propositions ; but 
so little understood is the principle which creates the defect, 
that the infinite divisibility of matter is treasured among the 
truths of philosophy ; while Zeno's kindred problem, (from 
interfering more grossly with our experience,) excites our 
ridicule. 

$ 12. — I have heard intelligent persons deliberate gravely on 
the infinite divisibility of a drop of water; half of a drop is 
water, for the division alters not chemically the nature of water, 
but diminishes the quantity merely. But the half may be again 
divided, and the residue will be still water ; and so in infinitum. 
The conclusion is regularly deduced from the premises, but 
during the process the word water loses its signification. Water 
is a sight, a feel, and a taste. A water in which these are not 
discoverable, is water minus water — a vacated sound. 

§ 13. — Words divested of signification may still be employed 
in the problems and demonstrations of mathematicks. 

We may imagine a circle that shall be larger than the orbit 
described by the earth in its annual revolutions. Still, no part 
of the circumference can be equal to a straight line ; for no 
proposition in mathematicks is more satisfactory, than that a 
straight line can never constitute a circle ; hence we arrive at 
the conclusion, that a curve may expand in infinitum without 



88 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

becoming straight, though at every expansion it approximates 
towards straightness. 

§ 14. — In view of this mathematical process, Hume says, 
" the demonstration seems as unexceptionable as that which 
proves the three angles of a triangle to be equal to two right 
angles ; though the latter opinion is natural and easy, and the 
former big with contradiction and absurdity. Reason here 
seems thrown into a kind of amazement, which, without the 
suggestion of any skeptick, gives her a diffidence of herself, 
and of the ground on which she treads. She sees a full light, 
but it borders upon the most profound darkness. Between them 
she is so dazzled and confounded, that she can scarcely pro- 
nounce with certainty concerning any object." 

§ 15.— But the difficulty vanishes if we consider the words 
circle and curve as names of sights and feels. Mathematicians 
are correct so long as the words refer to sensible existences ; 
but when they speak of a curve which can neither be seen nor 
felt, it is a curve minus curve, and the proposition is like the 
problem of Zeno. 

§ 16.— -The fallacy enters largely into the speculations of every 
department of philosophy. 

Because a cubick inch of air weighs the third part of a grain, 
we calculate the number of cubick inches of air which rest on a 
man in a column of forty or fifty miles in altitude ; and by call- 
ing every inch the third part of a grain, we conclude that every 
man supports fourteen tons weight of air. Is not this divesting 
the phrase fourteen tons of its signification? Weight, (and 
especially fourteen tons,) is the name of a feel; and to use the 
word where no feel is discoverable, is like talking of a tooth- 
ache which cannot be felt, or of an inaudible melody. 

§ 17. — I met lately with the following speculation : "A small 
piece of sugar will sweeten a pint of water; consequently, 
every drop of the water will contain some sugar." So far, the 
speculation is sensible ; the sugar which every drop of water is 






LECT. VI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 89 

said to contain, refers to the sweetness that is discoverable in 
the water. But the theory proceeds : — " If we add a farther 
pint of water, we shall discover that the taste is gone ; there- 
fore, the last pint caused a farther division of the sugar, or some 
part of the water would continue sweet." 

§ 18. — We find as yet no sophistry, but the next step is de- 
lusive. The writer continues : — " Have the particles of sugar 
been divided to the extent of their divisibility \ If they have, 
the indivisibility must proceed from a want of power in water 
to effect a farther division, and not from a want of matter to be 
divided ; because the last water could not have so divided the 
particles that each will not be larger than the half of it. But 
why shall we suppose that the power of water to divide ceases 
at the moment when our sense can no longer discover the effects 
of a division ? We may as well suppose, that time ceases when 
we sleep. More philosophical is the supposition that the smaller 
the particles of sugar become by division, the more easily they 
will be affected by the water ; and that the water continues to 
divide the particles so long as particles remain. But we have 
shown that particles will always remain ; hence, no quantity of 
water can be added without causing a further division of the 
sugar. How infinitely divided must the sugar at length become, 
when a small piece is cast into a river ! And if every soluble 
thing which is thrown into the ocean divides, so that every drop 
of the ocean contains some part of the dissolved substance, 
what a variety of particles must a drop of the ocean contain ! " 

§ 19. — In the above we find no weakness of argument. The 
defect lies in a misuse of language. The words particle and 
sugar are names of sensible existences; and to use the words 
where the existences are not discoverable, is to speak of invisi- 
ble sights, or any other contradiction. Such a use of language 
is like the trick of a juggler, who, having adroitly conveyed a 
shilling from under a candlestick, talks of the money as still 
under the candlestick. 



90 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. fPART I. 



§ 20. — Theoretical causes are frequently nothing but words 
divested of their sensible signification. 

If two billiard balls strike, they rebound. Till lately philo- 
sophers inculcated, that when the balls strike, a dent is produced 
in each ball ; and the dent resuming instantly its rotundity, 
causes the balls to fly asunder. 

§ 21. — A dent is a sight and a feel. But the dent which is 
here assumed, can be neither seen nor felt ; hence the cause, in 
this case, is a word divested of its signification. A dent which 
our senses cannot perceive, differs but in sound from a house 
which our senses cannot perceive : both are names of sensible 
existences, and both are unmeaning terms when they are used 
where nothing sensible can be discovered. % 

§ 22. — When we subtract from a word its sensible signification , 
the word returns, (so far as relates to the external universe,) 
to the pristine insignificance which the word possessed, be- 
fore it was applied to the purposes of language. 
/ ■ 

In relation to the motion of billiard balls, Professor Stewart 
says, " Some of the ablest philosophers in Europe are now 
satisfied that the effects which are commonly referred to impulse, 
arise from a power of repulsion, extending to a small and imper- 
ceptible distance round every element of matter." 

§ 23. — A repulsion is, however, a sight or a feel, or both; 
but in the present case, we can neither see the repulsion, nor 
feel it ; nor is it discoverable by any of our senses. It is a 
repulsion minus repulsion. It operates also at an imperceptible 
distance. This is the distance that for ever prevented Achilles 
from overtaking the tortoise. But distance is a sight and a feel ; 
and when Professor Stewart subtracts these, the word returns to 
the pristine insignificance which it possessed before it was 
applied to the purposes of language. 



LECT. VI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 91 



§ 24.— The law of nature, which makes the word scarlet insig- 
nificant to the blind, makes all words insignificant when they 
attempt to name external existences which our senses cannot 
discover. 

Let us consider, says Locke, how bodies produce ideas in us. 
" Colour and smell are produced by insensible particles ope- 
rating on our senses." The word particles names, however, 
existences which can generally be both seen and felt. It may 
be applied intelligibly to a sound, taste, or smell ; but to employ 
the word as a name of some external existence, which none of 
our senses can discover, is a use that language cannot sustain 
and retain any significance. 

§ 25. — If particles were known in the way only in which they 
are employed by Locke, you could never disclose their meaning 
to any person. You may as well attempt to instruct the blind 
in the import of scarlet, as teach another person the signification 
of particles when they refer to no sight, feel, taste, smell, or 
sound. The disability of the blind proceeds from a destitution 
of the sense which is conversant with scarlet ; and a disability 
arising from a similar cause is experienced by us in the word 
particles when it signifies something that our senses cannot 
discover. 

§ 26. — We can no more subtract from an external existence its 
sensible qualities, and leave a subsisting reality, than we can 
subtract all sensible qualities from an orange, and leave a 
fruit. 

" Let us now suppose," continues Locke, " that a violet, by 
the impulse of such insensible particles, of peculiar figures and 
bulks, and by different degrees and modifications of their mo- 
tions, causes the blue colour and sweet scent of that flower to be 
produced in our mind." The smell and colour of a violet are 
therefore imputed by Locke to an impulse which can neither be 
seen nor felt ; and the objects impelled are undiscoverable parti- 
tides that possess invisible and intactible figures and bulks, and 



92 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I 

move with various degrees of an insensible motion. "We need 
not wonder that the study of metaphysicks is difficult, and that 
common sense has long ridiculed it. You can no more subtract 
from a particle its sensible qualities, and leave an entity, than 
you can subtract them from an orange and leave a fruit. 

§ 27. — When the word cause is used significantly, it refers to 
a sensible existence. 

If I release my hold of a stone, it will fall to the earth. 
Natural Philosophy asks why the stone descends. Philoso- 
phers answer that the descent is caused by an attraction which 
exists in the earth. 

§ 28. — We think we have gained much information. Nee- 
dles rush to a magnet by virtue of its attraction, and we have 
only to suppose a similar power in the earth, and the descent 
of the stone is accounted for. An essential difference exists, 
however, in the two cases. The word attraction, when predi- 
cated of the magnet, refers to a sight and a feel. The attrac- 
tion can be seen in the needle's uniform attendance on the 
movements of a magnet ; or it can be felt in the effort that is 
necessary to detach a needle from a magnet. But attraction, 
when predicated of the earth, is cognizable by none of our 
senses : hence the word is divested of its signification. It 
becomes attraction minus attraction. 

§ 29. — An ignorance of the limitation which nature has formed 
to the signification of language, is in no instance so pro- 
ductive of erroneous speculation, as in its application to the 
word cause. 

Doctor Darwin attributes all the phenomena of chymistry to 
a specifick attraction and a specifick repulsion, which belong 
to the sides and angles of the insensible particles of bodies. 
When the repulsions predominate, they cause the diffusion of 
light and odours, the explosion of some bodies, and the slow 
decomposition of others : but when the attractions predominate, 
they cause crystallization and solidity. 



LECT. VI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 93 

§ 30. — Attraction, repulsion, sides, and angles, are names of 
sensible phenomena ; independently of which, the words are as 
insignificant as any that can be made by throwing promiscuously 
together the letters of the alphabet. We find, however, in 
Doctor Darwin's speculation, that words alone are made the 
cause of odours, sounds, fluidity, and explosion. The proposi- 
tion is an instance as glaring as any that -can be adduced of the 
absurdities into which even the wisest men fall when they inves- 
tigate causation without knowing that the word cause (like every 
other word) is insignificant, when it relates to the external uni- 
verse, and refers to no sensible existence. 

§ 31. — If I look at this piece of silk, I discover the sight 
which we call red. The sight is caused by the silk. If you 
desire to know what I mean by asserting that the silk causes 
the sight, I can remove the silk, and show you that the sight 
will cease. 

§ 32. — But opticians carry the inquiry further, and ask what 
causes the silk to produce the sight which we name red. They 
answer, that light is composed of red and other coloured rays. 
That the silk absorbs from light all its rays but the red, and 
that the red rays are reflected from the silk to our eyes. 

§33.— The phrase red rays, when used significantly, refers 
to a sight. It may be discoverable in a prismatick spectrum ; 
but here the rays can be neither seen nor felt ; nor are they dis- 
coverable by any of our senses. They are rays minus rays — 
a word divested of its signification. Red rays which cannot be 
seen, are as gross an incongruity as a pain which cannot be felt. 
The errour in both cases is the same. Still, this phrase, divested 
thus of its signification, is made the cause of redness. 

§ 34. — The inquiry is carried further, and we are asked how 
the reflection of red rays to our eyes enables us to see redness. 
The answer is, that the red rays converge on the retina of our 
eyes, and form there a very small picture of the piece of silk. 
This picture is what the mind perceives, though we ignorantly 
imagine it is the distant silk. 



94 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I, 

§ 35. — The word picture names a sight and a feel ; but here 
it designates neither. You would in vain endeavour to teach a 
person the signification of the word, by referring him to what is 
exhibited on the retina of his eye. The word picture, when 
thus used, becomes nullified. It is nothing but the sound of 
which it is composed. In a dissected eye, a miniature of exter- 
nal objects may be discovered : hence the term is significant 
when thus applied ; but to apply the word to a living eye, where 
no such phenomenon can be discovered, is to act less signifi- 
cantly than children ; for when they say that a stick shall be a 
ship, or a lady, they give a wrong name only to their playthings ; 
but when we apply the word picture where no existence is 
discoverable, we " give to airy nothing a local habitation and a 



§ 36. — Theories are useful, but we need not confound them with 
the sensible realities of creation. 

Let me not be understood as decrying the theories to which 
I advert, or the sciences that are erected on them ; but we need 
not confound the theories of men with the realities of nature. 
We can award to Prometheus the credit of sculpturing a well 
proportioned statue, without straining our admiration to the 
belief that he endued it with animation. 

37. — My remarks are only illustrations of the general princi- 
ple, that words can be divested of signification, and still formed 
into propositions which will not be obviously futile. That 
words are insignificant when they are employed to signify ex- 
ternal existences, but refer to nothing which the senses can 
discover, the present lecture assumes. Of this assumption I 
shall speak hereafter,* and I trust make its truth manifest, if so 
obvious a position be not self-evident. 

* See Lecture X. 



LECT. VI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 95 



§ 38. — The principles of this lecture are correct, though some 
of my illustrations may be deemed incorrect. 

I would add in conclusion, that the principle of this lecture 
should be separated from the examples* with which I have 
sought to illustrate it. Some of the examples may be unskil- 
fully adduced, and not obnoxious to the charges which I have 
brought against them ; but the principle is true in every case in 
which it properly applies. 

* For an explanation of some of the examples, see Lecture VII, § 1. 



96 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



LECTURE VII. 

THE MEANING OF A WORD VARIES WITH ITS APPLICATION. 

When we survey society, and discover the labourer bending 
beneath his toil ; the merchant, sedentary at a scanty desk ; and 
the scholar, wasting in the contemplation of a few propositions ; 
we can scarcely believe that they are beings, to whom nothing 
is naturally more delightful than to roam without a limit, and to 
expatiate without a rule. Such, however, are some of the trans- 
formations of civilization. In condescension to human infirmity, 
every new enterprise may be preceded by a relaxation, and every 
new investigation by an excursion of fancy. But these indul- 
gences must be brief. The sinews of the artisan must again 
be strung to toil, and the thoughts of the student contracted to 
a point. 

Leaving, then, the above pleasant field of imaginative specu- 
lation, we also must return to the slow exploration of a single 
avenue of knowledge. My former lectures contained . truths 
which are simple, yet highly important. They have singularly 
escaped the scrutiny of metaphysicians, while, practically, they 
have been admitted by all persons. We are prone to disregard 
what is obvious, and to believe, with an ancient philosopher, 
that truth lies at the bottom of a well. The contrary is uni- 
formly a safer conclusion. I now beg your attention to another 
fundamental, yet simple principle of language. 

§ 1. — Wo?'ds may be compared to a mirror. It is naturally 
void, and varies its representations as you vary the object 
which is placed before it. 

In my last lecture I endeavoured to show that words which 
name sensible existences, are often divested of signification, and 
still formed into propositions which are not obviously futile. 



LECT. VII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 97 

We seem not to know that when we employ the word water 
where no sensible existence is discoverable, the word partakes 
immediately of the nothingness to which we apply it. Words 
are in some respects like a mirror. When you remove all 
objects from before it, the mirror no longer reflects any image, 
but becomes void ; and when you remove from a word all refer- 
ence to sensible existences, the word no longer signifies any 
sensible existence, but becomes void. We seldom, however, 
use a word without referring to something for its signification. 
This remark applies to even several of the instances adduced 
in my last lecture ; hence those instances will not strictly illus- 
trate the errour which the lecture sought to illustrate : — for 
example, the picture which is alleged to be on the retina of your 
eye, I denounced as a word divested of signification. This is 
not strictly true. The picture refers to certain experiments 
which can be made with a dissected eye ; and it refers also to 
various other sensible illustrations which belong to the theory 
of which the picture is a part. 

§ 2. — Words signify the objects to which they are applied. 

Words possess another analogy to mirrors. A mirror which, 
at one moment, reflects the image of a man, may, at another 
moment, reflect the image of a chair, a cat, or a, canary bird. 
The mirror conforms to the object which is placed before it, 
and, in like manner, every word conforms in signification to 
the object to which it is applied. The word William, when 
applied to a child, signifies the child ; and when applied to a 
flower, signifies the flower. This estimation of words consti- 
tutes the topick of the present lecture. 

§ 3. — Every word is a general term, and applies to a multitude 
of diverse existences. 

After we find, by examination, that an object is a unit, red, 
hard, solid; we must examine the object further, to learn the 
meaning of the words unit, red, hard, and solid : — for the mean- 
ing of a word varies with every different application of it. My 
hand is red, blood is red, hair is often red, the moon is some- 

5 



98 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

times red, fire is red, and Indians are red. These objects pos- 
sess a congruity of appearance that entitles them all to the 
appellation of red; but the precise meaning of the word in 
each application is the sight itself which the object exhibits. 
Whether an object shall or not be called red is a question which 
relates to the propriety of phraseology, and with which nature 
has no concern ; but the meaning of the word red in each 
application, is a question which relates solely to nature, and 
with which language has no concern: — at least, language pos- 
sesses over it no control. 

§ 4. — We attribute to nature the generality which belongs to 

language. 

Should we attend to the minute discriminations that can be 
discovered in the sights which we now denominate red, and 
instead of calling them all red, give a separate name to each 
sight ; language would be too copious for memory, and no ade- 
quate benefit would result from our prolixity. We should still 
be forced to resort to nature when we wished to know the sen- 
sible meaning of each word. The necessity which prompts us 
to employ the word red as a general name to a mass of varying 
individual appearances, prompts us to employ nearly every other 
word in a manner equally general. The infinity of objects and 
relations about which language discourses, can in no other way 
be comprehended by the few thousand words that compose 
language. A curious inattention, however, to the nature of 
language, induces us to measure the sameness of different 
sights by the sameness of their name (red) ; instead of qualifying 
the sameness of the name by the diverse appearance of the 
different sights. A like errour exists in the use to which we 
apply every word. 

$ 5. — Instead of qualifying the meaning of a word by the 
existence to which we apply the word, we estimate the exist- 
ence by the word. 

In a preceding discourse, we have discussed so much of our 
present lecture as relates to the sensible diversity which exists 



1EGT. VII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 99 

in objects that are nominally identical. Dismissing, therefore, 
that topick, I shall proceed to show that in the use of language 
generally, we invert the order of nature ; and instead of quali- 
fying the meaning of a word by the existence to which we 
apply the word, we estimate the existence by the word :* — for 
instance, after a moment's exposure, a drop of the otto of roses 
will fill with odour many rooms, while the drop will exhibit no 
diminution of size. This phenomenon is too common to excite 
admiration, but much may be excited if you exhibit the experi- 
ment to teach a person the expansiveness of matter. He will 
now snuff. the odour with astonishment. Bless me ! how won- 
derfully a little matter may be expanded ! A dozen rooms are 
full of it ! The person is evidently interpreting the smell by 
the phrase " expansiveness of matter." He knows not that the 
phrase should be interpreted by the smell. 

§ 6. — But if he is astonished at the preceding, what will he 
say of the particles of light ? They fall, says natural philosophy, 
millions of miles, and with a velocity so wonderful, as to accom- 
plish the descent in an instant ; still they hurt not the eye 
though they alight immediately on that susceptible organ. A 
man, grown old under the rays of the sun, may be astonished 
at this recital. The astonishment is produced by the language, 
and not by light. He interprets the words fall and particles, 
not by what his senses discover in light ; but he interprets what 
his senses discover in light, by the words particles and fall : 
hence, when he is informed further, that philosophers have in 
vain endeavoured, with the nicest balances, to discover weight 
in sunbeams, (even when the number of particles thrown into a 
scale has been multipled by a powerful lens,) the experiment 
increases his wonder at the smallness of the particles ; though 
it ought to teach him that the mystery is nothing but a latent 

* When men first attempted to spell, they resolved every word into such letters 
as would best express the sound of the word. The sound was the standard, and 
the letters approximated to it as well as they could. In our day, however, the pro- 
cess is reversed. The letters are the standard, (in our country at least,) of the 
sound of the word ; and very awkwardly sounding words the superficially learned 
(who adopt this unnatural standard) occasionally make. Thus to subordinate oral 
words to the letters into which orthography resolves the words, is a species of retri- 
bution on words for the authority that words have usurped over natural existences. 



100 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I, 

sophistry of language. The word particle when applied to light, 
means the existence only to which it is applied. It names a 
sight. When applied to stone, it names a feel as well as a 
sight. To wonder that the eye cannot feel the particles of 
light, is to wonder that it cannot feel a sight. We may as well 
wonder that we cannot taste sounds, and hear smells. 



§ 7. — We must resort to our senses for the sensible meaning 
of a word, and not to a dictionary. 

We cast into a tub of water a small piece of indigo, and the 
water becomes tinged with blue ; we cast into another tub of 
water a lump of sugar, and the water becomes sweet ; we open 
our shutters, and light becomes perceptible throughout our 
room ; we ignite a few sticks of wood, and the mercury will 
rise in a distant thermometer : — these results possess a cer- 
tain congruity, hence we say, the indigo and sugar are diffused 
through the water ; — the light and heat are diffused through 
the room. If, however, we wish to discover the sensible mean- 
ing of the word diffused, in these several uses, we must resort 
to our senses, and not to our dictionaries. The sensible meaning 
is so diverse in the above different applications of the word 
diffused, that a blind man will possess no conception of the 
diffusion that refers to the light and indigo ; while a man who 
never possessed tasting, will possess no conception of the 
diffusion which refers to the sugar. 

§ 8. — We must discriminate between the question which relates 
to the appropriateness of a word, and its signification. 

Every word refers for signification as scrupulously to the 
existence to which it is applied, as a pronoun refers for signifi- 
cation to the substantive whose place it supplies. I may say 
that two sounds look alike. Whether the expression is appro- 
priate or not depends on custom ; but whether the expression 
is significant or not, and what it signifies, depend on nature : — 
the expression will signify any sensible revelation to which it 
refers ; and if it refers to nothing, it will signify nothing. 



LECT. VII.] A. TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 101 



§ 9. — Interpreting nature by language enables us to communi- 
cate an artificial interest to scientifick experiments. 

When you exhibit the passage of light through a prism, you 
may assert, that the light which enters on one side of the prism 
is composed of the gorgeous colours that are emitted from the 
other side. This language gives to the experiment an interest 
which the exhibition alone will not excite. The spectator will 
not interpret your language by what he is beholding ; but he 
will interpret what he is beholding by your language. You 
may, however, say, that the prismatic experiment is not all that 
you refer to when you say light is composed of the prismatic 
colours. This impairs not my position. If you refer to other 
experiments, they will constitute a part of the meaning of the 
phrase. The phrase will mean every sensible revelation to 
which it refers, but nothing more : — so long as you confine its 
signification to the realities of the external universe. 

§ 10. — The language in which every experiment is announced 
must be interpreted by the experiment. We must not inter- 
pret the experiment by the language. 

The experimenter may tell you, that as you have seen a ray 
of light untwisted by the prism, and split into its constituent 
threads ; he will collect the filaments, and retwist them into 
their original form. With this preface, he will cause the 
coloured rays to pass through a lens which will converge them 
to a focus of light in its usual colour. The experiment is 
interesting. I wish not to depreciate it, but it constitutes all 
the sensible signification that the experimenter's language pos- 
sesses. We must interpret the language by the experiment, 
and not interpret the experiment by the language. A dumb 
mute who may witness the exhibition will possess all the knowl- 
edge on the subject which we possess. If the language which 
we apply to the experiment tends in the least to increase, 
diminish, or alter the information that we receive from seeing 
the experiment, the dumb mute will estimate it more correctly 
than we. 



102 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART U 

§11 . — In a small book on natural philosophy, after explaining 
the prismatick phenomena, the writer states, grass is green, be- 
cause it absorbs all rays of light but the green ; roses are red, 
because they absorb all but the red rays ; snow is white, 
because it reflects the whole ray, &c. " You can never see 
objects," says the book, "without light. Light is composed of 
colours ; therefore every object, though it is black in the dark, 
becomes coloured as soon as it is visible. It is visible by the 
coloured rays which it reflects : hence we can see it only when 
it is coloured." 

§ 12. — This doctrine is delivered in a dialogue between an 
instructress and a female pupil. The pupil replies with emo- 
tion, " All you say seems true, and I know not what to object ; 
yet it appears incredible : what ! when in the dark, are we all 
as black as negroes ? The thought makes me shudder !" 

§ 13. — Who has not experienced that in the dark no discrimi- 
nation exists between the colour of a negro and a European? 
The astonishment is produced by the supposition that the black- 
ness, which is attributed to us in the dark, is not to be inter- 
preted by the event to which it refers ; but that the event is to 
be interpreted by the word blackness, according to its meaning 
when it refers to negroes. x 

\ 14. — When a chymist ignites a stream of hydrogen gas 
and oxygen, and permits the flame to pass through a glass tube, 
we find the inside of the tube become suffused with water. 
The interest of the experiment is usually heightened by the 
surprising announcement, that water is nothing but a union of 
the two gases. Instead of interpreting the announcement by 
the experiment, we interpret the experiment by the announce- 
ment, and hence the surprise. 

§ 15. — Interpreting nature by language enables us to very 
insidiously excite admiration. 

" That light, itself a body, should," says Professor Brown, 
" pass freely through solid crystal, is regarded by us as a phy- 



LECT. VII. 1 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 103 

sical wonder." Why ? No man was ever surprised at finding 
light enter his room when he threw open his window shutters. 
Wonder is produced only when we interpret the occurrence by 
the language in which the occurrence is expressed : — when we 
suppose the passage of light through crystal to be the same as the 
passage of my hand through crystal. But when we know that 
the language is to be interpreted by the fact to which it refers, — 
(that it means only what crystal and light are continually exhi- 
biting,) — our surprise vanishes with the delusion that created it. 

§ 16. — Observe, also, in the above extract, how insidiously 
language enables us to infer that light ought to encounter oppo- 
sition in its passage through crystal. If Mr. Brown had merely- 
stated that light passes through crystal, no reason would have 
appeared why it should not pass through. But the addition of 
one word implies that the passage of light through the crystal 
is as wonderful, if not as miraculous, as the passage of Moses 
through the Red sea. I allude to the word body, — the wonder 
is that light, "itself a body," should pass through crystal. 
Body is generally the name of a feel : hence, when we say 
that light is a body, we know not that the signification of the 
word body is governed by the object to which it is applied. 
We suppose rather, that the character of light is determined by 
the word body. The wonder is produced, not by the sight 
which we experience, but by something else: — a something 
which is a delusion of language. 

§ 17. — Interpreting nature by language enables us to both 
artificially exalt and degrade sensible information. 

An ignorance of the simple fact, that every word or phrase 
possesses as many sensible significations as it possesses a 
reference to different sensible phenomena, enables philosophers 
to encircle their experiments and speculations with an artificial 
importance, as I have just exemplified ; and also with an artifi- 
cial degradation, as will appear by the following examples : — 
Professor Brown* says, "power is a word of much seeming 

* Philosophy of the Mind, Lecture VII. 



104 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

mystery ; yet all which is mysterious in it vanishes, when it is 
regarded as only a general term, expressive of invariable ante- 
cedence ; or, in other words, of what cannot exist without being 
followed immediately by a definite event, which we denominate 
an effect. To express shortly," he continues, " the only intelli- 
gible meaning of the three most important words in physicks, 
power, cause, and effect, we may say that power is immediate 
invariable antecedence ; — a cause is the immediate invariable 
antecedent in any sequence ; — and an effect is the immediate 
invariable consequent." 

§ 18. — We may now think, that power, cause, and effect, are 
vastly more simple than we had supposed : — a cause is nothing 
but " an immediate invariable antecedent." But what is the 
sensible signification of an immediate invariable antecedent? 
The sensible existence to which we apply the phrase. When 
we become acquainted with the sensible existence, we may call 
it either a cause, or an immediate invariable antecedent : our 
meaning will be the same in both cases. Mr. Brown's phrase 
can simplify causation only when we seek the meaning of the 
phrase from some other source than the revelation of our 
senses ; — and hence seek a fallacious meaning. 

§ 19. — But the most curious of simplifications relates to chy- 
mistry. Chymistry analyzes bodies, and out of water produces 
oxygen gas and hydrogen ; out of glass, sand, alkali, &c. Now, 
says Mr. Brown,* " these processes of chymistry enable us only 
to discover what are always before our eyes, but our sight is 
not keen enough to see them." This greatly dissipates our 
admiration of chymistry. To produce oxygen from water, and 
sand from glass, is but little meritorious, if the operation enables 
us to see what only the weakness of our eyes prevented us from 
seeing. Unfortunately, however, the means which ordinarily 
assist vision, aid not chymists. With the most powerful micro- 
scope they are unable to discover, in water, the gases ; or in 
glass, the sand. 

* Philosophy of the Mind, Lecture IX. 



LECT. VII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 105 



^ 20. — The sensible realities to which words refer, and which 
alone give ivords a sensible signification, are not affected by 
our phraseology. 

If we inquire soberly into the meaning of Mr. Brown, we 
shall find that the simplicity which his description affords, arises 
from an ignorance of the fact, that the sensible meaning of 
words is the sensible phenomena to which the words refer. 
That the sand is present in glass, and would be visible were 
our eyes sufficiently acute, means not the same as when I say 
this table is present. The word present, as used by Mr. Brown, 
means the ability to reproduce sand by an analysis of glass. 
We can arrange words into such propositions as we please, but 
the sensible realities to which words refer, and which alone give 
words a sensible signification, are not affected by our phrase- 
ology. To these realities, as revealed by our senses, we must 
refer for the signification of language. To refer to words for 
the signification of what our senses reveal, is to err as grossly 
as to refer to a picture of the moon for the purpose of ascer- 
taining whether the moon, which we see in the horizon, pos- 
sesses its true colour, shape, and other appearances. 

§ 21. — Philosophy often expends itself in a contest about phra- 
seology, from not knowing that the meaning of words is 
controlled by the sensible existences to which the words refer. 

"When a spark," says the same philosopher, "falls on gun- 
powder, and kindles it into explosion, every person ascribes to 
the spark the power of kindling the inflammable mass. But," 
continues he, " let any person ask himself what he means by 
the power which he imputes to the spark ; and without con- 
tenting himself with a few phrases which signify nothing, let 
him" — What? Shall he content himself with no phrase, but 
deem the word power significant of precisely what his senses 
discover in the spark and explosion? No: — he must content 
himself with some phrases which Mr. Brown prescribes. Such 
has always been the advice of philosophers, and such will be 
their advice, till they know that the sensible signification of 



106 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

every word is neither more nor less than the sensible existence 
to which the word refers. Every philosopher gives us a new 
phrase, and like a quack with a new nostrum, desires us to be 
content with no other. In the present case, Mr. Brown advises 
the person to answer, that by the power imputed to the spark, 
he means only, " that in all similar circumstances, an explosion 
of gunpowder will be the immediate and uniform consequence 
of the application of a spark." 

§ 22. — Admit that the person shall answer thus, what is the 
sensible signification of the answer ? — precisely what our senses 
reveal to us in the spark and explosion : — precisely what the 
word power refers to. You may suppose that the occurrence 
is vastly simplified by the new phraseology, but the supposition 
is founded on the errour of employing the phrase to interpret a 
revelation of your senses, instead of employing the revelation 
of your senses to interpret the phrase. 



LECT. VIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 107 



LECTURE VIII 



EVERY GENERAL PROPOSITION POSSESSES AS MANY SIGNIFICATIONS 
AS IT POSSESSES REFERENCE TO DIFFERENT PARTICULARS. 

Naturalists assert, that the oak, with its towering trunk, its 
gigantick limbs, and its diffusive roots, is originally compressed 
within an acorn. They make this discovery by vision, and trace 
in microscopick lineaments the sylvan monarch. So an author 
can indite a few propositions, which shall comprehend a system 
of philosophy; but knowledge, thus compressed, is as undis- 
coverable to every understanding except the author's, as the oak 
is undiscernible to every eye but the naturalist's. 

In detail then we must proceed. The oak must be suffered 
to issue from its imagined nucleus, to enlarge gradually its stem, 
to protrude successively its branches, and to indurate by alter- 
nate suns and tempests, before it can serve any useful purpose ; 
so an author must be permitted to unfold gradually his premises, 
frame his propositions, accumulate examples, and evolve slowly 
his conclusions, before his labours can impart any beneficial 
instruction. Patience, then, must be your characteristick and 
my motto. 

§ 1. — In our last lecture, I endeavoured to show that every 
word possesses as many significations as it possesses references 
to different phenomena. The same rule applies to propositions. 
Every proposition possesses as many significations as it pos- 
sesses references to different particulars. 

§ 2. — Every proposition signifies some particular that the 
speaker refers to ; but the proposition is interpreted by 
something that the hearer refers to. 

We are, however, constantly prone to errour in the interpre- 
tation of propositions. I lately heard a gentleman exclaim that 



108 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

his situation was unhappy. Another rebuked the speaker, and 
insisted that his situation was peculiarly happy. 

In these conflicting propositions, each speaker alluded to dif- 
ferent particulars ; and if he had stated them, no disagreement 
would have occurred; the first speaker would probably have 
admitted that he was desirably situated in the cases enumerated 
by the second, and the second would have admitted that unhap- 
piness existed in the particulars enumerated by the first. 

§ 3. — One particular may constitute the meaning of numerous 
propositions. 

If I have been hurt by riding a vicious horse, I may construct 
numerous propositions, for which I may possess no signification 
but the above accident : thus, things which are very valuable 
when good, are frequently worse than worthless when they are 
not good. 

Brute animals are so destitute of gratitude, that the more you 
pamper them, the more inclined they will become to injure you. 

What in animals we call a vicious practice, is probably per- 
formed without any vicious intention. 

§ 4. — General propositions produce often an apparent conflict 
of opinion where no disagreement exists. 

To a person who is ignorant of the accident to which I refer, 
the propositions will be applied to other particulars. Such an 
application may induce a denial of my last position ; he may 
insist that animals are conscious when they perform a vicious 
action. He alludes to his dog, who, after killing a sheep, exhi- 
bited symptoms of fear. Mv proposition was not intended to 
controvert this. I meant only that starting at his shadow, a 
practice by which mv horse threw me from his back, was per- 
formed without any intention of dismounting his rider. 

§ 5. — Propositions possess not always a determinate meaning. 

But suppose I assert that " infancy is a state of dependance." 
I may refer to no particular infant, nor any determinate acts of 



LECT. VIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 109 

dependance. This will arise from my familiarity with the propo- 
sition. When I used it first, I referred to some particular case ; 
but now, I employ it without thinking of any ; and were you to 
demand of me some example, I should state one which I did 
not think of when I uttered the declaration. 

§ 6. — We often involve our actions in general propositions. 

The Scripture says, "judge not lest you be judged." Our 
mode of framing propositions furnishes this text with a popular 
construction, which implies that the judgments we pronounce are 
frequently an enunciation of our own practices ; thus, I may say, 
"no man is proof against all temptations." I mean no more 
than a particular case in which I was vanquished. If the hearer 
can recollect no occasion in which he was overpowered, he will 
not assent to my position ; and if he can recollect an instance 
in which he resisted a strong temptation, he may form a new 
proposition : " some persons are proof against every temptation." 

§ 7. — A man who picked up a dollar which he saw fall from 
a traveller, went to a tavern, and in conversation with the land- 
lord, made this proposition : " Men are more honest in great 
matters than in small." He meant that he acted dishonestly in 
not restoring the dollar, whilst in his more extensive intercourse 
with mankind he was honest. The innkeeper (who had a week 
previously found in one of his chambers a pocketbook with 
bank notes, which he intended to keep, though he frequently 
corrected errours when his guests gave inadvertently some trifle 
too much) replied, that he thought " men were more honest in 
small matters than in great." 

§ 8. — Universal gravitation signifies the particulars only to 
which it refers* 

Most of the phenomena which are adduced in proof of uni- 
versal gravitation, were discovered after the establishment by 
Newton of the proposition. Of these subsequent discoveries 

* See Lecture IX, § 10. 



110 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

we may enumerate the experiment of Dr. Maskelyn in Perth- 
shire, which, by ascertaining that a mountain would so attract 
a plummet as to prevent the plummet from falling perpendicu- 
larly, confirmed, says the Encyclopedia, " beyond all doubt, the 
doctrine of universal gravitation." " But," says the writer, " in 
establishing a law of nature, we should multiply experiments :" 
accordingly, he relates an experiment made with two leaden 
balls in 1788, by Mr. Cavendish. "The facts thus adduced, 
combined with the former, prove," says the Encyclopedia, — 
what? The phenomena exhibited? No — " they prove," says 
the writer, "that every particle of matter gravitates to every other 
particle." And this is correct ; for the proposition, how general 
soever, signifies the experiments only to which it refers. Tra- 
dition says, that the law was originally suggested to Newton by 
the fall of an apple from a tree ; and if he alluded to no other 
phenomenon, the proposition meant originally no more than that 
simple occurrence. I mean not to enumerate the phenomena to 
which the proposition refers, nor to restrict its application ; I 
wish to show only the qualities which render propositions signi- 
ficant, and which limit their significancy. 

§ 9. — The sphericity and motions ', $>c, of the earth, signify the 
phenomena only to which the propositions refer* 

To say that the earth is a sphere, that it revolves round the 
sun, and round its own axis, and that we possess antipodes, are 
truths so long as we consider the expressions significant of cer- 
tain phenomena to which the propositions refer. If you inquire 
of an astronomer whether the earth is a sphere, he will desire 
you to notice what he terms the earth's shadow in an eclipse of 
the moon, the gradual disappearance of a ship as it recedes from 
the shore, &c. After hearing all that he can adduce in proof 
of the earth's sphericity, consider the proposition significant of 
these proofs. If you deem it significant beyond them, you are 
deceived by the forms of language. 

* See Lecture IX, § 10. 



LECT. VIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. Ill 



§ 10. — Till we know the particulars to which a proposition 
refers, its meaning is unknown to us. 

" Nature," says an astronomer, " has drawn an impenetrable 
curtain between the inhabitants of the sun and the worlds which 
circulate around them. She has doomed them to the most soli- 
tary dwelling in creation, and has marked them as either unfit 
to enjoy the noble privileges of intelligent beings, or as un- 
worthy. The planets and the stars are invisible from the sur- 
face of the sun, unless a transient glance is obtained through an 
accidental opening in the solar atmosphere. From the year 
1676 to 1684, no such opening occurred; consequently, the 
inhabitants of the sun never, during eight successive years, 
obtained a view of the starry firmament." 

Not to waste our commiseration at this tale of wo, the writer 
has happily furnished us with his meaning. It is very simple : 
" from the year 1676 to 1684, not a single spot was discoverable 
in the sun's atmosphere." 

§ 11. — Ignorance of the true method of interpreting proposi- 
tions causes controversy. 

The knowledge possessed of the sun by the learned, differs 
not essentially from that enjoyed by the illiterate. The learned 
are acquainted with more telescopical appearances than the illi- 
terate ; but the principal phenomena are known to both, and 
appear alike to all. The sun has been successively called a 
demon, a heated stone, a body of glass, a mass of fire, and an 
inhabited globe. At any period, if a philosopher had enume- 
rated the sensible revelations which constituted the meaning of 
his language, no skepticism would have been exhibited ; but the 
employment of such language, without this explanation, has 
ever encountered opposition. This alone ought to have made 
philosophers suspect either that some defect existed in their 
speculations, or in the interpretation which was applied to them. 



112 . A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



§ 12. — Medical science has suffered by a misconstruction of 
general propositions. 

The science of medicine has suffered more than any other, 
by an ignorance of the nature of general propositions. Physi- 
cians can seldom see the seat of a disease, or apply direct 
remedies to it. They are but little more favoured than a clock- 
maker, who should be bound to discover the defects of a clock, 
and to repair them by operating through the keyhole. Embar- 
rassed thus by nature, they augment every difficulty by speaking 
in general propositions. Doctor Parry in his Elements of Pa- 
thology says, " the sanguiferous system is the source of almost 
all diseases, partly in consequence of the natural constitution of 
the body, and partly from the habits of civilized society." Dis- 
eases proceed generally, he supposes, from an excess either in 
the quantity or momentum of the blood. 

§ 13. — The illustrations of a general proposition constitute 
often all its meaning. 

The above speculation refers undoubtedly to some sensible 
particulars ; but, as I know them not, the language is to me 
insignificant. Still, if Dr. Parry had adduced the particulars to 
which he alludes, the difficulty would yet exist ; for his disciples 
would estimate particulars as the mere explanation of his propo- 
sitions, and suppose that the propositions had a meaning inde- 
pendent of the particulars. 

§ 14. — Conflicting general propositions often harmonize when 
we know the particulars to ivhich they refer. 

Cullen asserts, that when an external cause produces in us a 
morbid action, nature exerts an opposite process to counteract 
the evil : thus, an excessive load of food forced into the stomach 
possesses a tendency to destroy life, but the stomach resists the 
evil, and disgorges its contents. Some medical writers assert a 
conflicting proposition. They say, that every morbid change 
which occurs in our system is essentially injurious, and must be 



LECT. VIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 113 

opposed by medicine ; if the stomach is discharging its contents, 
the physician must endeavour to prevent the discharge. 

§ 15. — Two physicians, who should severally enforce the 
above propositions, would employ opposite remedies. But to 
act thus proceeds from an erroneous belief that the propositions 
are significant of more than certain particulars. A person who 
knows the particulars to which each proposition alludes, will 
probably find that both positions are correct. 

$ 16. — No general proposition is significant of more than cer- 
tain particulars. 

A father said once, "my son, in water exists a principle which is 
destructive of life, and in brandy a principle preservative of life." 
The father meant, that immersion in water would produce death, 
and that a small quantity of brandy was occasionally salutary. 
The proposition was correct while confined to the particulars 
to which the father alluded ; but the son, supposing its applica- 
tion universal, refrained from the use of water, and substituted 
brandy. We all err in a similar manner, though not always in 
a like degree, when we consider any proposition significant 
of more than certain particulars ; and if those who promulge 
general propositions, will not announce the particulars to which 
they refer, we have still every thing to learn. 

§ 17. — Physicians have employed much controversy on the 
origin of yellow fever, some asserting that it is indigenous, and 
others exotic. Were each partisan to detail the particulars to 
which he refers, no disagreement would probably exist ; but 
while he deems his proposition significant of more than certain 
particulars, endless controversy ensues. Each thinks justly 
that the other errs, for the same ignorance of the nature of 
language misleads both. 



114 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



§ 18. — We should never contest general propositions, but the 
particulars to which the propositions refer. Men cannot be 
forced to adopt but one phraseology. 

" Suppose," says Dr. Francis, " A to be ill of dysentery in a 
small confined apartment, his person neglected, the atmosphere 
around him impure and offensive ; B visits him, and becomes 
sick with the same disease. Doctor Bailey, and others who 
adopt the doctrine of infection, as opposed to contagion, insist 
that the disorder of B proceeds from the impure air of A's 
chamber, and not from any thing emanating from the body of 
A ; but," says Doctor Francis, " as we may without hazard visit 
an equally filthy chamber where C lies ill of a broken limb, I 
ascribe the disease of B to a peculiar virus generated in the 
system of A by the disease under which he labours, and com 
municated by his excretions to the surrounding atmosphere." 

§ 19. — Now, what is the controversy between Doctors Francis 
and Bailey ? Whether the disorder of B proceeds from a pecu- 
liar virus generated in the system of A, or from the impurity of 
A's chamber. They brandish at one another these propositions, 
without knowing that no proposition is significant of more than 
certain particulars. The moment they appreciate this fact, they 
will discover, that instead of contesting each other's general pro- 
positions, they should contest the particulars to which the propo- 
sitions refer. For instance, let Doctor Francis say that B will 
not become diseased if he visits the impure chamber of C, who 
lies ill of a broken limb. If Doctor Bailey denies this assertion,, 
the controversy becomes a question of fact, which is terminable 
by an experiment, and not by debate. 

§ 20. — Nearly every proposition is true when interpreted as 
the speaker interprets it. This results from the nature of 
language, and not from conventional agreement. 

To compel all men to employ the same collocation of words 
is impracticable. The attempt has filled the world with contro- 
versy, and not brought us to the desired uniformity. We, how- 



LECT. VIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 115 

ever, greatly aggravate the difficulty by not knowing that every 
proposition possesses as many different meanings as it refers to 
different particulars. This arises from no conventional law of 
language, but from its natural dependance for all its sensible 
signification on the sensible particulars to which it refers. Two 
men may employ different propositions, while the speakers refer 
to the same fact ; and they may employ the same proposition, 
while they refer to different and even opposing facts. I am so 
confident that nearly every declaration is true, in the manner 
intended by the speaker, that I rarely contradict. If a man tells 
me in the middle of a delightful day, that the air feels as if we 
are shortly to have rain, I conclude that his assertion announces 
something unknown to me — perhaps the recognition of a feel 
which he once experienced antecedently to rain : hence, his 
prediction is true in the manner that he intends ; and a denial 
he would construe into an assertion that he does not experience 
{he feel which constitutes the meaning of his prediction. 

§ 21. — I heard a man contend that no degree of heat could 
melt diamonds ; whilst another was positive that they would 
melt. He who asserted their fusibility, referred to nothing but 
an article which he had read in a Cyclopedia; and he who 
maintained their infusibility, referred to an assertion of his 
father. Both persons were positive, because they intended no 
more than the above facts. If, however, each had discovered 
the other's meaning, the controversy would probably not have 
terminated. It* would unconsciously have changed to another 
question, whether the Cyclopedia was entitled to more credence 
than the father ; the discussion of which would have produced 
an altercation as virulent as the former, and with as little under- 
standing by each disputant of the facts referred to by the other. 

§ 22. — General propositions are unintelligible till resolved into 
some known particulars. 

General propositions are often found in books, unaccompanied 
with any explanatory particulars. Such propositions are unin- 
telligible, unless we apply some particular to them. For in- 
stance : " We are," says Professor Stewart, " enabled, by our 



116 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

instinctive anticipations of physical events, to accommodate our 
conduct to what we perceive is to happen." This is followed 
by no example ; hence, it will be insignificant to every person 
who cannot attach to it some incident. The event which it 
caused me to think of, was the falling of a tree. Instinctive 
anticipation would enable me to perceive, that I should be 
crushed if I did not accommodate my conduct to what was to 
happen; that is, if I did not change my position. Probably 
Mr. Stewart thought of something different. The event to 
which I allude may never have occurred to his observation.* 

§ 23. — Plato explained the gradual decay of the human sys- 
tem by saying, " matter was first converted by Deity into bodies 
of triangular shapes. Of these the elements were constituted, 
and they assumed regular geometrical figures. Fire became a 
pyramid, the earth a cube, the air an octahedron, and water an 
icosahedron. The human frame is composed of these elements, 
and as their angles become by time blunted, and unable to retain 
their hold, the fabrick gradually dissolves." 

§ 24. — This is the laboured production of a wise man. He 
doubtless had some particulars to which his propositions re- 
ferred ; but as we know them not, his language is as insignifi- 
cant as the disconnected prattle of infancy. 

§ 25. — Some writers commit a species of tautology, by involv- 
ing in general propositions the facts which they subsequently 
particularize. 

Other writers avoid the above errour. If they involve any 
fact in a general proposition, they subjoin the fact by way of 
example, though it truly constitutes all the meaning of their 
proposition : thus, " the more," says St. Pierre, " temples are 
multiplied in a state, the more is religion enfeebled." 



* The inexperience of children tends to make general propositions unintelligible 
to them ; hence, books intended for children should speak of individual incidents, 
and avoid general propositions. 



LECT. VIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 117 

^ 26. — What did St. Pierre mean ? You will find in his suc- 
ceeding paragraph. " Look," says he, " at Italy, covered with 
churches, yet Constantinople is crowded with Italian renega- 
does ; while the Jews, who had but one temple, are so strongly 
attached to their religion, that the loss of their temple excites, 
to this day, their regret." 

§ 27. — His general proposition means but the above particu- 
lars, therefore you need not controvert the position, and show 
that in your country the increase of temples increases the num- 
ber and zeal of worshippers. If you argue with St. Pierre, 
blame him for using words in a way which you do not approve, 
but not for denying facts to which he never alluded. 

§ 28. — Malebranch, in accounting for the phenomena of me- 
mory, says, "in childhood the fibres of the brain are soft and 
flexible ; but time dries and hardens them, so that in old age 
they are gross and inflexible." 

§ 29. — Malebranch is not enumerating any phenomena dis- 
coverable by inspection of the brain. What then does he 
mean? It follows in his own words : "flesh hardens by time, 
and a young partridge is more tender than an old one." You 
may wonder how this concerns memory. I know not. It, 
however, concerns his theory, and probably constitutes all he 
means by the hardness and inflexibility which he makes age 
inflict upon the brain. 

§ 30. — Mr. Hawkesbee asserts that the aurora borealis is 
the efTect of electricity on a vacuum. What does he mean ? 
He states subsequently as follows : " the excitation of electri- 
city in an exhausted Florence flask produced a light which re- 
sembled the aurora." Another person who shall find that all 
the phenomena of the aurora borealis cannot be thus imitated, 
will insist that Mr. Hawkesbee is wrong ; but in truth both are 
right, for they mean severally no more than the facts to which 
each refers. The difference between them is in their language, 
apart from which they will agree. 



118 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



§ 31.— General propositions bring often unmerited honour on 
their authors. 

We are prone to award unmerited commendation to the au- 
thors of general propositions : thus, the assertion attributed to 
Pythagoras, that the earth revolves round the sun, is supposed 
to imply a knowledge by him of the Newtonian theory ; while 
probably no feature of it was ever imagined by Pythagoras. 
He may have intended some particulars that have long been 
exploded from science. 

§ 32. — Lord Bacon asserts that reason is supposed to govern 
the words of men, but that words often possess power to react 
upon reason. " This aphorism," says Professor Stewart, " may 
be considered the text of the most valuable part of Locke's 
Essays, the part which relates to the imperfections and abuse 
of words ; but till within the last twenty years, its depth and 
importance were not perceived in their full extent." 

§ 33. — Mr. Stewart alludes to what has been written since 
the time of Bacon, by Mr. Prevost and Mr. Degerando; but 
Bacon is no more entitled to credit for the observations which 
have subsequently been marshalled under his aphorism, than 
the man who first formed the word Napoleon is entitled to the 
renown that has lately been connected with that appellation. 
The aphorism, when invented by Lord Bacon, was significant, 
as we find by a reference to it in his Novum Organum. What 
he intended, he there expressed, and further than this the propo- 
sition possessed probably no signification in his understanding. 

§ 34. — We must interpret every general proposition by the 
particulars to which it refers ; and not interpret the particu- 
lars by the general proposition. 

We are informed by phrenologists, that various prominences 
on the skull conform to certain protuberances which exist in the 
brain; and that a man's piety, courage, memory, endurance, 
with all his other moral qualities which either exalt the inch- 



LECT. VIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 119 

vidual or degrade, conform, in their degree, to the magnitude of 
the said protuberances. No person can read Spurzheim's trea- 
tise on phrenology without discovering that the above assertions 
refer to many interesting particulars, which hence constitute 
the meaning of the assertions. To believe, however, that the 
assertions signify more than all the sensible particulars to which 
they refer, is to interpret our experience by the language that 
we apply to it; instead of interpreting our language by the 
revelations of nature. Such an interpretation subordinates na- 
ture to language, instead of subordinating language to nature. 

§ 35. — We are told that the tides are caused by the influence 
of the sun and moon. If you would know the external meaning 
of the proposition, (the meaning which relates to the realities 
of the external universe,) you must ascertain all the sensible 
information to which the proposition refers. The sensible par- 
ticulars prove not themselves, and, in addition, that the tides 
are caused by the sun and moon ; but they signify all that the 
proposition means. I intend not to say that the proposition is 
improper, but I wish to designate its meaning. The proposi- 
tion is usually deemed far more important than all the particu- 
lars to which it refers. The particulars are estimated as the 
mere indications by which the sagacity of Newton was enabled 
to discover the more comprehensive truth that is involved in the 
general proposition. 

§ 36. — Same sensible particulars imply others, by virtue of our 

experience. 

When a jury pronounces Thomas guilty of murder, they may 
possess no other particulars than that the cry of murder pro- 
ceeded from a house out of which Thomas, covered with blood, 
was seen to issue. On entering the house, a man, recently 
killed, was lying on the floor, with the sword of Thomas in his 
breast. You may ask whether the verdict of the jury, which 
pronounces Thomas guilty, must not signify the above particu- 
lars, and also, that Thomas was the perpetrator ? Yes, but this 
result is included in the particulars which are proved. The 
particulars testified to are experimentally connected with the 



120 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

further fact, that Thomas was the perpetrator ; precisely as I 
know that a piece of gold is round, when you tell me that mea 
sure it where I please, from the centre to the extremity, the 
length is just an inch. The implied roundness is a result of 
my experience with round bodies ; and the implied agency of 
Thomas, is a result of our experience with men, their motives, 
and actions, &c. In both cases, therefore, we refer to sensible 
particulars, which are as comprehensive as the general propo- 



§ 37. — Finally, then, if we would appreciate the nature of 
general propositions, we must remember that each possesses as 
many sensible significations as it possesses a reference to differ- 
ent sensible particulars ; that no general proposition possesses 
any significance, if it refers to no particular ; and that no propo- 
sition can signify more than the particulars to which it refers. 

* See Lecture IX. 



LECT. IX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 121 



LECTURE IX. 



WHEN THE NEGATION OF A PROPOSITION REFERS TO NO PAR- 
TICULAR, THE NEGATION IS INSIGNIFICANT; AND THE PRO- 
POSITION POSSESSES AN UNLIMITED AFFIRMATION, WHICH 
MAKES THE PROPOSITION SEEM TO SIGNIFY MORE THAN A 
LIMITED NUMBER OF PARTICULARS. 

§ 1. — That the sensible signification of a general proposition 
is limited to the sensible particulars to which the proposition 
refers, proceeds from nature and not from convention. 

In my last discourse, I attempted to show that the sensible 
signification of every proposition is limited to the sensible par- 
ticulars to which the proposition refers. The limitation pro- 
ceeds from the nature of language, — every word being a sound 
inherently insignificant. The principle seems to be controverted 
by positions which assert that all men must die; — that every 
unsupported stone will fall towards the earth, &c. ; for if a pro- 
position is significant of nothing but the particulars to which it 
refers, the proposition that all men must die seems equivalent 
only to the proposition that all men have died. 

§ 2. — Affirmative propositions possess a universal application, 
when the negation of their universality refers to no sensible 
particular. 

The position that all men will die, possesses a universal ap- 
plication for the reason that to say, some men will not die, refers 
to no sensible particular, and hence is insignificant.* 

* See Lectures VIII and X. 
6 



122 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART J, 



§ 3. — Uninterrupted experience excites a feeling of expectation 
which enters into the meaning of some propositions that allude 
to futurity. 

To assert that the sun will rise to-morrow and daily for 
ever, — that the moon will continue to wax and wane, — that the 
seasons will continue to alternate, — that the winds will continue 
changeable, — are highly significant propositions. You may say 
that the assertions, (so far as they are prospective,) refer to 
nothing. This is not true. They refer to an internal feeling 
of expectation, which is excited in us naturally by our uniform 
experience. But the assertions are especially significant ini- 
mitably, from the fact, that though they can be denied verbally, 
the negation will refer to no sensible experience, and hence will 
possess no sensible signification.* 

§ 4. — A universal proposition that speaks of futurity, cannot 
be invalidated by a negation that refers to no sensible par- 
ticular. 

To assert that food will not always be necessary to support 
life, refers to no sensible experience ; hence, it cannot invali- 
date the significant proposition that food will always be neces- 
sary to sustain life. A universal proposition, when it speaks of 
futurity, may therefore be significant, from the mere fact that a 
negation of the proposition is insignificant. 

§ 5. — If a negation refers to no sensible particular, the nega- 
tion is insignificant. 

When I assert that every unsupported stone possesses a ten- 
dency to fall towards the earth, you may say that millions of 
stones exist with which the experiment has never been tried, 
and that they may not possess any tendency towards the earth. 
The difficulty with this potential objection is, that as it refers to 
no sensible experience, it possesses no sensible signification. 

* See Lectures VIII and X. 



LECT. IX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 12& 

J 6, — All affirmations and all negations refer for signification 
to our experience. 

That light and darkness succeed each other over the whole 
earth within every twenty-four hours, and that every stone pos- 
sesses a tendency to fall towards the earth, are positions equally 
consonant to all my experience. Still, a negation is significant 
when applied to the first position, but insignificant when applied 
to the second position ; because the negation of the first position 
refers to the sensible experience of many men, while a negation 
of the second position refers to no experience. 

§ 7. — -Propositions are neither significant nor insignificant, hut 
as they refer to our sensible experience. 

Thousands of human beings exist who never heard that light 
and darkness intermit their daily alternations ; hence I may insist 
that your belief in the universal gravitation of stones may arise 
from only a like defect of experience. " The cavil, however, 
refers to no sensible particular, and therefore possesses no sen- 
sible signification. I may as well talk of the possibility of hot 
ice and cold fire. The assertions are insignificant, because they 
refer to no sensible particular. 

§ 8. — Though the absence of a sensible negative will make an 
affirmative proposition universal in its meaning, yet the 
affirmative proposition will signify the sensible particulars 
only to which it refers. 

To an uninformed man within the tropicks, no proposition can 
be more universal in its application, than that which affirms a 
diurnal succession of light and darkness ; yet we know that the 
proposition is significant of nothing but the experience of the 
uninformed man. The universality of the proposition depends 
upon his unacquaintance with any sensible exception ; but his 
inexperience cannot enlarge the signification of the proposition. 
It will still signify the sensible particulars only to which it refers 
when he employs it. 



124 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



§ 9. — The universality of a proposition relates to the absence 
of a sensible negative particular, and not to the number of 
the affirmative particulars. 

I have heard of a child in England, who had seen but two 
negroes, and each of those happened to possess but one arm. 
The child was heard to speak of negroes, and among their pe- 
culiarities he enumerated that negroes possess only one hand. 
The universality of the proposition was true according to the 
knowledge of the speaker, and hence* we see that the univer- 
sality of a proposition relates not to the number of particulars 
to which the proposition refers, but to the absence of a negative 
instance. In like manner, the small number of comets which 
we have seen or heard of, disenables us not from applying 
universal propositions to comets. 

§ 10. — Many scientific^ propositions owe their propriety to the 
absence of a sensible negative. 

The roundness of the earth, its diurnal and annual motions, 
&c., refer for signification to numerous sensible particulars, 
which constitute all the sensible signification that the assertions 
possess. Still, if any person chooses to say that the earth is 
not round, — that it possesses no motion, &c, — the negations 
will possess but little if any sensible signification. The nega- 
tions may mean that I cannot feel the motion as I can feel the 
motion of a coach ; — that I cannot feel the roundness as I can 
feel the roundness of an artificial globe. But the affirmative 
propositions do not include within their signification that the 
roundness and motions can be felt; hence the roundness and 
motions which are affirmed, remain without a sensible negative. 

§ 1 1 . — Similar to the foregoing are the assertions that the 
moon and sun cause the tides ; that every fixed star is a sun, 
and the centre of a planetary system; that beyond all teles- 
copick vision other stars exist, which also are the centres of 
more remote systems ; that the earth appears like a star to the 
inhabitants of the planets, &c. These assertions are all signi- 



LECT. IX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 125 

ficant of some observations, some calculations, or of at least 
some thing; whilst a negation of them may refer to nothing, 
and hence be insignificant. The propositions, instead of being 
negatived, require to be limited in their signification to the 
sensible particulars to which they refer. 

§ 12. — A doubt or salvo which refers to nothing sensible, is 
verbal only and sensibly insignificant. 

An Esquimaux Indian will be as positive that water every 
where freezes during the winter, as I am that a piece of gold 
will everywhere exhibit the sight round, and the feel round, 
when the piece is so formed that a line drawn any where from 
the centre of it to the surface, will measure just one inch. 
Now, I know that the Esquimaux is mistaken. Countries 
exist in which water never freezes, and why may not some 
countries exist in which the principles of nature are so different 
from those with which I am acquainted, that a piece of gold 
may possess the proportions that I have stated, and still not be 
round ? The two cases are radically different. That countries 
exist in which water never freezes, is a significant declaration, 
for it refers to the sensible experience of many credible wit- 
nesses ; but the doubt in relation to the gold is merely verbal. 
It refers to no sensible experience, and hence is as sensibly insig- 
nificant as any story of giants or fairies that amuses infancy. 

§ 13. — That the dead exhibit neither sensation nor conscious- 
ness, &c, is all we mean when we assert that the dead are void 
of feeling and consciousness. We cannot know experimentally 
that the dead suffer no pain on a funeral pyre, or under the knife 
of an anatomical demonstrator, or under the process of decompo- 
sition. You may deem this reflection full of horrour, and depre- 
cate for the dead some attention to the possibility of their latent 
sensibilities. But you will deprecate in vain. The anatomical 
demonstrator will proceed in his operations as unconcernedly as 
before. He may not be able to state why he disregards your 
remarks ; but the reason lies in his practical acquaintance with 
the nature of language. Your remarks refer to nothing sensible, 
hence he knows them to be sensibly insignificant. 



126 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



LECTURE X. 

LANGUAGE CAN EFFECT NO MORE THAN REFER US TO THE 
INFORMATION OF OUR SENSES. 

The earth possesses gradations of temperature, from the fri- 
gidity of a polar winter to the intensity of an equatorial summer. 
With the Esquimaux we may dwell in houses of undissolving 
ice, repose on ledges of everlasting snow, and pierce the huge 
walrus amid an accumulated frost of ages : or with the Ethio- 
pian we may bask in a tropick sun, repose in scorching groves, 
and press the gushing lusciousness of spontaneous fruits. We 
may avoid both extremes. We may enjoy a sky that never 
clouds, a herbage that never fades, a cold and heat so attem- 
pered that the thought of either is unnatural. 

This is poetry, but not fiction. It is the romance of nature : 
yet, with this diversity before him, and sensitive to its effects, 
man scarcely ever changes his location with a view to climate. 
As a tree falls it lies ; and where Providence decrees our birth, 
we also are stationary. This trait in the human character may 
be heightened if we reflect on the power of our appetites, and 
the turbulence of our passions. To satiate his appetites, a man 
will dissipate suddenly the labours of his ancestors ; and to 
gratify his passions, he will renounce reputation and hazard 
existence. Still, no luxury exists of flood, field, or air, but in 
some regions it is the banquet of peasants ; and no passion is 
so irregular, but in some countries its object is lawful enjoyment. 
But again these temptations fail to allure. The most rigid moral 
discipline, and the coarsest of nature's caterings, remove not 
even the sensual from the land of their nativity. 

A similar inconsistency is apparent when we select our occu- 
pations. We should determine theoretically that when a man 
possesses no higher object than a subsistence, he would select 
the least offensive employment that will compass his object ; still 
the most laborious pursuits, and the most noxious, are supplied 



LECT. X.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE 127 

with followers as readily as the most easy and healthful, and with- 
out the poor consideration of being more pecuniarily profitable. 
Literature presents the same peculiarity. We might reason- 
ably imagine that a man who devotes his life to literature, (a 
devotion in itself perverse,) would select subjects in which the 
playfulness of fancy, or the vivacity of wit, would relieve the 
irksomeness of composition ; at least, that he would avoid the 
labyrinths of metaphysicks, and the straits of logick : toils 
which seldom can supply even the consolation that a French 
authoress extracted from an assimilation of herself with a lamp ; 
that she consumes to enlighten others. Yet in literature also 
the rugged walks are voluntarily thronged equally with the most 
agreeable. This thought is gloomy, but it happily suggests the 
subject of our lecture. 

§ 1. — Words can supply the place of no sense. They can 
simply refer us to what our senses have disclosed. 

I have heretofore stated several fundamental principles of 
language. A principle as fundamental as any of the former, 
and more essential than all of them to a just apprehension of 
human knowledge, is this, — language can effect no more than 
refer us to the information of our senses.* The most forcible 
language, and the most fluent utterance, are inadequate to infuse 
into the blind a knowledge of colours. Why ? Because colours 
are sights, and nothing can reveal to us sights but seeing. We 
may apply the same conclusion to every other item of our knowl- 
edge. Words can supply the place of no sense; — they can 
simply refer us to what our senses have disclosed. 

§ 2. — No sight which I have not seen, can be revealed to me 

by words. 

Truth possesses generally two aspects — one so gross that 
every person sees it ; the other so subtile that the most acute 
pass it unnoticed. For instance, that words cannot reveal co- 
lours to the blind, is obvious ; while the kindred fact, that no 

* See Lecture XL 



128 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

sight which a person has not seen can be known to him, has 
been denied by even the sagacious Hume. 

He says, " suppose a man is acquainted with every colour 
except a particular shade of blue. Let now all the shades of 
blue, except the above, be placed before him in an order de- 
scending gradually from the deepest blue to the highest ; will 
he not be able, by his imagination, to acquire a knowledge of 
the absent shade ?" 

§ 3. — Hume asserts that he can. He is wrong. The absent 
shade is a sight, and nothing can reveal it but his eyes. The 
law which prevents blind men from knowing any colour, disen- 
ables him from knowing the absent shade. 

§ 4. — But, if we cannot thus learn a new appearance, can we 
not by some mental elaboration commix known sights, and dis- 
cover the effects ? No. A change of appearance is a new 
sight, and irremediably unknown till disclosed by our eyes. 
When a milliner wishes to know how a riband which lies before 
her will appear on a hat, she trusts not her ability to compound 
ideas ; but, from a practical acquaintance with the limitation of 
her faculties, applies the riband to the hat. 

§ 5. — Pictures can reveal no sight but themselves. 

From the known inadequacy of words to reveal new sights, 
we employ pictures. But a person who never saw the original, 
will receive from its representative no sight except that of the 
painting. Let a youth study geography, and be competent to 
designate on a map or globe every kingdom, and to tell its lati- 
tude, climate, soil, productions, and appearance ; his knowledge 
is precisely what he displays : various appearances on maps, 
globes, and pictures, together with words and phrases which he 
has learnt to associate with them. If he thinks he knows any 
sight which he never experienced, a visit to the countries he has 
been taught to speak of will undeceive him. He may recog- 
nise names of places, names of customs, and names of natural 
productions ; but the sights will be new. All the ingenuity 
of man, assisted by painting, sculpture, and eloquence, cannot 



LECT. X.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 129 

teach the brightest understanding the exact appearance of even 
a pin, except by presenting to his eyes what will produce a sight 
that in every respect is a pin. 

§ 6.—- No taste which I have not experienced, can be made 
known to me. 

I shall not press this point. That language can reveal to me 
no sight that seeing has not informed me of, is a physical truth 
which experience will substantiate. But the position is equally 
true of the information furnished by our other senses. Let an 
epicure prescribe some unusual mixture of known ingredients, 
and after his imagination has feasted on the compound, let him 
present it to his taste, and he will discover the inefficacy of his 
foreknowledge. 

§ 7. — No sound which I have not heard, can be made known to me. 

If I have never heard a cataract, you may inform me what 
the sound is like ; and if I have heard a similar sound, I shall 
be instructed ; but language can effect no more than such an 
approximation. Should you wish to acquaint a child with the 
sound of a cataract, his conception of it will probably be very 
erroneous ; not because his faculties are less acute than yours, 
or language less operative on him than on you ; but because his 
experience is less than yours, and language can be significant 
to him of his experience only. If he has heard no sound more 
consonant, you must refer to even the lowing of an ox. You 
may qualify the comparison, by saying the cataract is awfully 
louder ; but if he has heard nothing louder, the qualification will 
not add to his instruction, except that it may teach him he is 
still ignorant of the correct sound of a cataract. 

§ 8. — Brilliancy of imagination and acuteness of intellect can- 
not perform the office of any of our senses. 

But cannot the letters of the alphabet be combined so that by 
looking at the combination, seeing can teach me a sound that 
hearing has never informed me of ? I may combine letters so as 

17 



130 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 

to denote a new sound ; but the sound, so far as it is new, will 
be unknown to me, till my organs of speech have read the com- 
bination, and thus made my hearing acquainted with it. Seeing 
the letters can of itself teach us a new sound, no more than it 
can teach a deaf mute. The same inability is common to all ; 
nor let any person suppose that he can compound known sounds, 
and thus acquire a sound which he never heard. Brilliancy of 
imagination, and acuteness of intellect, cannot pass the barriers 
erected by nature. The most practised musician can, no more 
than the most unskilful, know the sound which will be produced 
by a new combination of familiar notes. So far as the combi- 
nation will produce a sound that he never heard, so far the effect 
of the combination must be unknown to him. 

$ 9. — No feel which I have not felt, can be known to me. 

A person who has never felt pain, (if we can conceive such a 
being,) will possess no correct meaning of the word; and he 
who has felt no greater pain than a toothache, may be told of 
the superior agonies of the gout, but he will not be able to 
divine the feeling. Language cannot perform the office of any 
of his senses. It can record phenomena, but not reveal them. 

§ 10.-— No muscular effort which I have not experienced, can 
be made known to me by language. 

From the inadequacy of language to effect more than a refer- 
ence to our experience, arises the inefficacy of verbal instruction. 
A writing master may direct a child how to make a perpen- 
dicular mark ; but in every particular in which the directions 
refer to some motion which the pupil has never produced, or 
to some muscular effort that he has never made, the directions 
are as impotent as a discourse on colours is to the blind. 

$ 1 1 . — Nearly every word possesses a verbal meaning as well 
as a sensible meaning. 

That the significancy of a man's language is limited to his 
sensible experience would be readily admitted, were we not 



LECT. X.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 131 

embarrassed with one difficulty. Bonfire names a sight, and 
melody a sound. If these words possessed no other significa- 
tion, we should immediately understand that the import of bonfire 
must ever be unknown to the blind, and the import of melody 
unknown to the deaf. But these words, and nearly all others, 
possess a further signification : they name words also. This is 
an important distinction, and till you understand it, you will be 
liable to delusion. 

§ 12. — The sensible signification of a word nothing can reveal 
but our senses ; — the verbal signification can be disclosed by 
words. 

Recollect, then, that nearly every word possesses a signifi- 
cation which refers to our senses, and another which refers to 
words. The sensible signification is the sight, sound, taste, 
feel, and smell, to which the word refers ; therefore, nothing 
but our senses can reveal to us this signification ; but the verbal 
signification of a word may be known to any person who pos- 
sesses hearing, and even to those who are void of hearing, if 
they have acquired the art of reading. 

§ 13. — We rarely discriminate between the verbal signification 
of a word and its sensible signification. 

When Locke says that the meaning of rainbow can be re- 
vealed to a person who never saw one, provided he has seen 
red, violet, green, &c, Locke is alluding to the verbal meaning 
of rainbow. This meaning can be known to the blind, and I 
once saw a company surprised when a blind youth was exhib- 
iting what was esteemed a triumph of education over natural 
defects, by giving an explanation of the appearance of rain- 
bows. The company knew not that rainbow possesses two 
significations ; — one a sight which nothing can reveal but 
seeing, and the other words that can be learnt by hearing. 



132 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART I. 



§ 14. — Words and definitions can disclose only the verbal 
meaning of words. 

You may suppose that wo differ from the blind ; and that an 
enumeration of the colours of a rainbow, and of their figure, 
size, position, and arrangement, to us who know the sights which 
the words signify severally, would reveal to us a rainbow, not 
verbally merely, but visibly. 

$ 15. — The premises are, however, impossible. No person 
can have experienced the colours which compose a rainbow, 
and their figure, position, and arrangement, without having seen 
a rainbow. Take any one of the colours, say red : it names 
not one sight only, but numerous sights. Fire is red, blood is 
red, my hand is red, bricks are red, and an Indian is red; — 
which of these is he to imagine, when you speak of the red of 
a rainbow ? The same remark will apply to the other colours, 
and to their figure, position, and arrangement. 

§ 16. — But admit that a person who has never seen a rain- 
bow, shall still have seen all its colours. Admit further, that 
when you enumerate the colours, he shall guess the precise red, 
orange, yellow, &c, to which you refer ; yet, for the person to 
know how the colours will look when they are combined, will be 
impossible ; much less, how they will appear when drawn into 
the shape, size, and position, of a rainbow. If he has seen such 
a combination, he has seen a rainbow ; but if he has not seen 
the combination, language is inadequate to reveal it. After the 
most copious definition, and the most familiar acquaintance with 
the sights separately that are referred to by the defining words, 
a person will be conscious of a new sight the moment he sees 
a rainbow. 

§ 17. — The opinion that definitions can teach us more than 
the verbal signification of words, has descended from antiquity. 
The ancients, however, thought that definitions are applicable 
to all words ; while the moderns see that this involves an ad- 
mission, that we can acquire a knowledge of sights without the 



LECT. X.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 133 

agency of seeing, &c. Hence, the moderns exclude from the 
power of definition all such words as white, loud, &c, that sig- 
nify sensible information only. They perceive not that other 
words are definable only because they possess a verbal signifi- 
cation ; and that so far as the object of a definition is to reveal 
a new sight, taste, feel, smell, &c, all words must be equally 
undefinable. 

§ 18. — A knowledge of the two-fold character of words useful 
in the instruction of deaf mutes. 

If the instructors of the deaf will study the difference that 
has now been stated between the verbal signification of a word 
and the sensible signification, they will find the discrimination 
important : for instance, suppose they wish to teach a deaf mute 
the signification of joy, they must teach him two significations ; 
the verbal signification, and the sensible. The verbal is easily 
taught, after you determine the form of words into which joy 
shall be resolvable. The sensible signification no words can 
teach — it is a feel, and can be disclosed only by making the 
mute know (by any method you can) the feel to which the word 
alludes. Every mute should be taught this difference in the 
character of words, and his knowledge will be definite, and his 
progress in learning agreeable. 



PART SECOND 



OF LANGUAGE WITH REFERENCE TO PHENOMENA INTERNAL 

OF MAN. 



X,£CT, XI J A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 137 



LECTURE XI. 

TO MAKE ALL LANGUAGE REFER TO SENSIBLE INFORMATION, 
FORCES US TO ESTIMATE, AS SENSIBLE INFORMATION, SOME 
INTERNAL PHENOMENA WHICH ENTER LARGELY INTO THE 
SIGNIFICATION OF WORDS, AND ARE NOT USUALLY INCLUDED 
AMONG SENSIBLE INFORMATION. WORDS ALSO ENTER LARGE- 
LY INTO THE, SIGNIFICATION OF OTHER WORDS. 

§ 1. — Language refers to our internal feelings. 

In my last discourse, I state that language can effect no more 
than refer us to the information of our senses. Language, how- 
ever, refers to a large class of existences, which are not usually 
deemed the objects of our senses: — for instance, the pheno- 
mena that we designate by the words love, anger, joy, hope, 
faith, hunger, pity, sympathy, judgment, reverie, &c. These I 
call internal feelings ; hence, I class them among the inform- 
ation that we derive from our senses. I will not defend the 
propriety of this classification. The sense of feeling is usually 
restricted to external information ; but I adopt the term internal 
feelings, as it will probably indicate the phenomena which I 
wish to designate. 

§ 2. — Language would lose a large portion of its meaning, to 
a person destitute of internal feelings. 

To a person who should be destitute of internal feelings, love, 
hope, fear, &c, would be words of very little meaning ; as also 
joy, sorrow, anger, anticipation, expectation, jealousy, hunger 
thirst, sleepy, weary, health, vigour, lassitude, &c. The words 
would not be destitute of meaning to him, because nearly every 
such word includes within its signification some external action 
or appearance, which enables us to determine by looking at a 

18 



138 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II* 

man, that he is sleepy, faint, angry, jealous, envious, hungry, 

&c. By means of these external exhibitions, a man who should 

be void of internal feelings, might discourse about love, anger, 

envy, &c. ; as a man who should be void of the sense of taste, 

could talk of the deliciousness of peaches, oranges, grapes, 

&c. — his words referring to the appearance of the fruits. 

s 

§ 3. — Internal feelings enter largely into the signification of 
ivords that relate to religion. 

The words eternity, heaven, hell, angel, redemption, resurrec- 
tion, faith, and many other words of sacred import, are con- 
nected, in religious men, with certain internal feelings which 
give to the words a pungency and unction. "With irreligious 
men, the words are connected with no such feelings, and are 
perhaps deemed significant of nothing but certain verbal defini- 
tions. An inattention to this difference in men produces much 
of the disagreement which exists on religious subjects. 

§ 4. — The words Jupiter, Juno, Mars, &c, were associated 
with feelings which probably made the names awful to the 
Greeks and Romans ; while, to us, the words are significant 
of nothing but historical narratives, or connected with feelings 
of derision. The word Jehovah was connected with such 
feelings in the ancient Jews, as made them refuse to utter it 
under any inducement. I am told, it is still thus esteemed by 
existing Jews. 

§ 5. — Religious feelings seem a part of the human constitution, 
like hope, fear, tyc. 

Religious feelings seem as much a part of the human consti- 
tution as sympathy, hope, fear, doubt, uncertainty, confidence, 
&c. Religion may change its modes of worship, and the nomi- 
nal objects of its worship ; but the internal feelings which alone 
give urgency and vitality to the worship, must always make 
every man liable to religion; — though he may not be always 
religious, any more than he is always under the influence of 
love, sympathy, hope, fear, doubt, &c. 



LECT. XI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 139 



§ 6. — Religion, from its connexion with our internal feelings, 
is but little affected by adverse logick. 

Infidels, when they seek to subvert Christianity, deem nothing 
necessary but to refute logically the tenets of revelation. Lo- 
gick can, however, effect nothing, till it can prevent the Scrip- 
tures from exciting religious feelings. You may endeavour to 
convince a man that his wife is neither handsome nor lovely ; 
but if she produce in him the feelings of love, your logick can 
effect but little, though he may be unable to refute it, or to dis- 
cover that your arguments are untrue* 

§ 7. — Internal feelings enter largely into words that are not 

religious. 

Ghost, witch, spectre, fairy, sorcerer, and a multitude of other 
words, derive their principal signification from the internal feel- 
ings with which they are associated. In children often, and in 
adults frequently, such words are highly significant and terrible. 

§ 8. — The whole universe can be nominally analyzed into sights, 
sounds, tastes, feels, sm,ells, internal feelings,, thoughts, and 
tvords. 

In our second lecture, when I resolved external existences 
into sights, sounds, tastes, feels, and smells, I avoided any refer- 
ence to existences which are not external, because I feared that 
they would complex a classification which was already abstruse. 
I should else have said, that all existences which are not ex- 
ternal can be characteristically designated as internal feelings* 
thoughts, and words : — hence, that the whole universe can be 
nominally analyzed into sights, sounds, tastes, feels, smells, 
internal feelings, thoughts, and words. 

* Many men, as well as children, may be speculatively convinced that a corps! 
js harmless, and yet be prevented by fear from remaining alone with it at midnight- 



140 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 



§ 9. — Our analysis is artificial; the universe can be correctly 
expounded by itself alone. 

You must remember that the object of my analysis is to teach 
you to subordinate language to nature. To effect this instruc- 
tion, I must possess some mode of referring to natural exist- 
ences ; but if you desire to know what the universe truly is, you 
must dismiss my names, as well as all others, and contemplate 
the universe externally with your senses, and internally with your 
consciousness. The information thus obtained is the universe. 
The moment this information is clothed in language, either ar- 
ticulately or in thought, you are wandering from the substance 
of the universe to the shadow, — from the realities of creation 
to the artificial and conventional terms by which men commu- 
nicate with each other ; and you will infallibly become entan- 
gled and confused with the sophistries and errours which have 
been created by a long habit of estimating nature by language. 

§ 10. — Words that refer to our internal feelings are subject to 
all the rules of interpretation which are enumerated in the 
preceding lectures. 

All that has been said in relation to the oneness and identity 
of external existences (as compared with the oneness and iden- 
tity of their names), applies even more violently to internal 
feelings than to sights, sounds, tastes, feels, and smells. In 
treatises, for instance, which have been written on our passions, 
appetites, emotions, &c, the internal feelings, &c, which give 
significancy to the word love, are enumerated not as the mean- 
ing of the word love, but as the acts and propensities of a 
mysterious unit love, who holds his seat in the heart. Wisdom, 
reason, judgment, conscience, instinct, and numerous kindred 
units, are crowded into the head, where, on invisible tripods, 
they sit, and hold divided dominion over the conduct, thoughts^ 
and feelings of the man in whom they are situated. 



LECT. XI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 141 



§ 11. — The identity of love is as fallacious as its oneness, 

I love my dog, horse, children, property, country, &c. In 
each of these applications of the word love, it refers to a feeling 
which I experience ; but the feelings that are thus referred to 
are not as identical in nature as in name. They possess a suf- 
ficient homogeneity to make the word love appropriate to them 
all ; just as I discover in a whale, an anchovy, and an eel, a 
sufficient homogeneity to make the word fish appropriate to 
them. In both cases we should estimate the verbal identity by 
the revelations of nature ; but we reverse this principle, and in 
both cases make the verbal identity authoritative over the natural 
diversity. 

§ 12. — We subject our internal feelings to fewer verbal dis- 
tinctions than our sensible information. 

The remarks which I have made on the identity of love and 
its oneness, apply to pity, and every other word that refers to 
internal feelings. Indeed, the identity which we impute to the 
internal feelings that are designated by one name, is responded 
to by nature with less strictness than the identity which we 
impute to the external existences that we designate by one 
name. If, for instance, your child should hurt itself grievously, 
you will be said to pity it ; and if you see a wounded fly, you 
may pity the fly. The two feelings in you will differ much ; 
yet, from the difficulty which men experience in indicating to 
each other, the precise internal feeling that any event excites, 
we apply the word pity to both the above cases, and to a multi- 
tude of other varying cases. "We are more definite with exter- 
nal differences. The words scarlet, red, pink, crimson, &c, 
designate sights which vary less from each other, than the pity 
which you felt for your child varies from the pity which you felt 
for the fly. The divisions to which we have subjected our 
internal feelings are gross and general. They are like the divi- 
sion of external objects into fish, birds, and insects ; rather than 
like the nicer discrimination to which we refer by the words 
whale, grampus, porpoise, &c. 



142 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 



§ 13. — Language is significant of what our senses inform us 
of what we are conscious of eocperiencing within ourselves, 
and of words, 

I have now shown that words derive their signification from 
external existences and internal consciousness. An item of 
either will render a word significant, and the item will consti- 
tute the signification of the word. I stated also in my last 
discourse, that words themselves constitute another source of 
signification to words. We are so accustomed to a captious 
verbal philosophy, which interprets creation by words, instead 
of interpreting words by the realities of creation, that some per- 
son may show language to be significant of many objects, &c, 
which cannot be embraced by my classification. I cannot avoid 
this difficulty ; for should I adopt his classification, another per- 
son may show still further omissions. No power exists to make 
all men employ the same language, and contention will continue 
in relation to phraseology, till men shall know that the meaning 
of a phrase is to be sought in the revelations of nature ; and, 
that no diversity of phraseology is important, (except philo- 
logically,) so long as we can ascertain the natural phenomena, 
&c, to which the phraseology is intended to refer. Language 
is significant of every thing that we discover it to be signi- 
ficant of; but a description so general as this would fail in 
enabling you to individuate the signification of words to the 
extent which my design renders necessary. 

§ 14. — Words are significant of other words. 

We find by our dictionaries that every word may be resolved 
into other words. Words often possess no signification but as 
representatives of other words. When an Englishman first 
learns the French word oui, its signification consists in its 
representing the English word yes. A portion of the words 
wliich every man uses is significant on the above principle 
only. 



LECT. XI.] A TEATISE ON LANGUAGE. 143 



§ 15. — A word which at one time signifies a word, may, at 
another time, signify a sight, §c. 

Decapitate signifies to me nothing but the phrase " to cut off 
a head." Should I unfortunately see a person guillotined, the 
word decapitate might thereafter signify the sight. To circum- 
navigate the globe, possesses with me no meaning but certain 
words and phrases ; but with Anson or Cook, the meaning con- 
sisted of the revelations of their senses. The word gout, which 
to one man is significant of words only, is to another significant 
of excruciating feels, &c. 



§ 16. — Some words never signify any thing but other words. 

We possess words which never signify any thing but other 
words. Infinity, eternity, are of this class, and antediluvian, 
millenium, fairy, and Mahomet. When I read a treatise on 
eternity, the whole treatise becomes in a manner the significa- 
tion of the word eternity. What I read in the Holy Scriptures 
in relation to it, becomes also a part of the meaning of the word. 

§ 17. — Some words of the above class, when connected with an 
internal feeling, are of the most sacred character. 

God, heaven, hell, immortality, angels, and many other words 
of the most awful import, are principally significant of scrip- 
tural declarations, and of various other words, sentences, and 
treatises ; except that they are significant of certain internal 
feelings also, which constitute a vivifying and essential part of 
their signification to persons who happily possess such feelings 
in association with the words. 

§ 18. — Much errour occurs in our speculations from our not 
discriminating whether we allude to the verbal meaning of a 
word, to its sensible meaning, or to its meaning with reference 
to our internal feelings. The malignity of the errour is in- 
creased when the diversity of meaning is deemed an ambiguity 
of nature, instead of an ambiguity of language. This topick 



144 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 

deserves a separate elucidation, hence I shall defer it till our 
next meeting. 

§ 19. — The present lecture is only introductory to succeeding 
ones, which will show that speculative writers fail to discri- 
minate between the verbal signification of a word, — its sen- 
sible signification, — and its signification with reference to 
our internal feelings. They deem the variety of meaning a 
duplicity of nature, instead of a property of language. 

From even the rapid glance which we have taken, we may 
readily apprehend the confusion which must occur in philoso- 
phical and all other verbal speculations, if a writer fails to discri- 
minate between the verbal signification of a word, — its sensible 
signification, — and its signification with reference to our internal 
feelings ; and especially if he deem the variety of meaning an 
ambiguity of nature, instead of a property of language. This 
topick is important, and the present discourse is merely a neces- 
sary introduction to it. I shall however defer entering on the 
subject till our next meeting. 



LECT. XII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 145 



LECTURE XII. 

MUCH ERROUR OCCURS IN OUR SPECULATIONS WHEN WE OMIT 
TO DISCRIMINATE BETWEEN THE VERBAL MEANING OF A 
WORD, ITS SENSIBLE MEANING, AND ITS MEANING THAT 
REFERS TO OUR INTERNAL CONSCIOUSNESS. 

§ 1. — We should discriminate between the verbal signification 
of a wordy and the sensible signification. 

Professor Brown says, " power is nothing but invariable ante- 
cedence." Is it nothing but those words 1 If he is speaking 
of the verbal signification of power, it may be what he says. 
The sensible signification I will designate algebraically, (as an 
unknown quantity,) by the letter x. Power is, therefore, a?. 
But Mr. Brown says it is invariable antecedence ; therefore, 
invariable antecedence is the same x. The like may be said 
of every phrase into which you may resolve the word power. 
The sensible signification (x) remains independent of our lan- 
guage, and unaffected by it. It is known alike by the savage 
and the philosopher. They differ widely in their theories, and 
verbal signification of power ; but when their senses reveal to 
them x, their sensible knowledge is identical. A deaf mute 
may possess the sensible signification of power as fully as either 
of them. 

§ 2. — The senses alone can reveal to us the sensible significa* 
tion of words. 

What then is x ? Your senses alone can yield the answer. 
Words may direct my attention to what I should not have other- 
wise noted in x, but they cannot reveal to me any part of x, — 
they cannot perform the office of the senses. A philosopher 
may write a volume in simplifying power, or in complexing it ; 
but his treatise will (however he may intend) constitute nothing 



146 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 

but the verbal signification of power. A boy who fires a squib 
to show you that a spark possesses power to ignite gunpowder, 
differs verbally only from Professor Brown, who insists thajt 
what the boy calls power in the spark, is only an invariable 
antecedence. All that is sensible is alike to both, and all that 
is not sensible is verbal only ; and cannot be thought of even, 
except in words. 

$ 3.: — Words can yield us nothing but the verbal signification 

of words. 

"What we denominate form is nothing separate from the 
elementary atoms of a mass, and merely the relation of a num- 
ber of atoms coexisting in apparent contact." Thus speaks 
Professor Brown. We may ask, however, whether form is 
merely the above words. Something is ulterior to the words, 
if we are alluding to the sensible realities of the universe. The 
words can yield us but the verbal meaning of form. The sen- 
sible reality is x. The girl who in rolling up her handkerchief 
tells you she is forming a doll, and Professor Brown with his 
elaborate definition, mean the same x, if they refer to the sen- 
sible signification of the word form. The professor may laugh 
at the simplicity of the child, and she may laugh at the abstruse- 
ness of the professor, but they differ only verbally; — and the 
child is probably less in errour than he. 

§ 4. — We strangely confound the verbal signification of a word 
with the sensible signification. 

Professor Brown speaks also of a statue ; thus, " the sculptor 
alters the form of a block of marble, not by communicating to 
it any new qualities, but by detaching from it a number of the 
corpuscles, which were included in our conception of the whole." 
Are these words the process by which the sculptor produces the 
statue ? The words are but a narrative of the process. The 
sensible process is x. The same to which another person may 
refer by saying that the sculptor, by elaboration, produces the 
statue out of a block of marble. One expression may be more 
descriptive than another, and more appropriate ; but nature, 



LECT. XII,] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 147 

sturdy and unaffected by our phraseology, is known as fully to 
a deaf mute who has seen a statue sculptured, as to Professor 
Brown. Hence, we need not be surprised when Professor 
Brown adds, that the sculptor, " after he has given the last deli- 
cate touches that finish the Jupiters, the Venus, or Apollo, — 
the divine form which we admire, (as if it had assumed a new 
existence beneath the artist's hands,) is still the same quiescent 
mass that slumbered for ages in the quarry. 

§ 5. — The sensible signification of a sentence is the sensible 
existence to which the sentence refers. 

Is the Apollo the same quiescent mass that slumbered for 
ages in the quarry ? This is the verbal account of its same- 
ness. The sensible sameness is x. The same to which I may 
refer by saying, that the statue is transformed from what it was 
in the quarry. We may debate the propriety of our respective 
phraseology, but let us not confound verbal disquisition with the 
realities of creation. The sensible reality is just as we disco- 
ver ; and when we divest it of all names, we shall understand it 
better than by the most laboured verbal description. 

§ 6. — Phraseology is controlled by custom, but the sensible sig- 
nification of phrases is controlled by nature. 

" Ice," says the same philosopher, " differs from water only 
in this, — the particles which formerly were easily separable, 
now resist separation with a considerable force." Is the differ- 
ence between ice and water nothing but the above words ? The 
words may constitute the verbal difference, but a difference 
exists which is independent of words. The sensible difference 
is x. We may refer to it by the words of Professor Brown, or 
by the words of some other philosopher, who may deem that 
he is greatly improving philosophy by the introduction of some 
new phrase ; but if we would truly understand nature, we must 
turn from words to the mute revelation of our senses. 

§ 7. — What is lightning ? An old dictionary says, " it is the 
flash which attends thunder." The moderns laugh at this sim- 



148 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 

pie explanation of lightning. They call it a discharge of elec 
trick fluid. But would we know the sensible signification of 
the word, we must dismiss both of the verbal meanings. The 
modern may be better chan the ancient ; but neither is lightning, 
except in the verbal signification of the term. Lightning, in its 
sensible signification, is x. The sensible signification is known 
to a deaf mute, as fully as to persons who can repeat a defini- 
tion. The revelation of our senses can alone teach us the 
sensible signification of words. 

§ 8. — We cannot transmute sights, feels, <J-c, into words. 

What is a point 1 Mathematicians say it is something which 
possesses neither length, breadth, nor thickness. Mathemati- 
cians are right, but they are describing a verbal point. The 
distinction is nowhere admitted. They are attempting to re- 
solve into words a sensible existence. The process is a delu- 
sion. Natural existences cannot be transmuted into words, 
Words may refer us to sensible existences, but words cannot 
become something that is not verbal. 

§ 9. — A sensible point is wholly different from the above defi- 
nition. It is x, and nothing can reveal it but our senses. So 
far from its possessing neither length, breadth, nor thickness, 
you will discover it to possess visible length and visible breadth, 
A visible existence without length and breadth is impossible. 

§ 10. — Logick relates to the verbal meaning of words, and its 
conclusions must not be confounded with sensible existences. 

Assuming that the definition is a point, and not discriminating 
that it is a verbal point merely, mathematicians deduce from the 
definition that no number of mathematical points, however con- 
gregated, can obtain either length, breadth, or thickness; — for 
what possesses no length, cannot acquire length by adding to it 
what also possesses no length, &c. The logick is incontestable, 
but let no man suppose it relates to more than a verbal point : — 
let no man mistake a process of language for the realities of the 
external creation. 



IECT, XII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 149 

§ 1 1 . — Again, every material sensible substance is said to be 
formed by an aggregation of certain insensible atoms. But 
are substances formed by those words ? Yes, verbally they 
are thus formed, and the following are some of the verbal con- 
sequences which are deduced from the premises, and mistaken 
for physical investigations : — " As atoms are the first matter, 
they must be indissoluble, or they would be corruptible ; and," 
adds Sir Isaac Newton, " they must be immutable also, in order 
to the world's continuing permanently in the same state, and of 
the same nature : hence," continues he, " God, in the beginning, 
created matter in solid, massive, hard, impenetrable, moveable 
atoms, incomparably harder than any of the porous bodies com- 
pounded of them; — nay, so hard as never to wear or break in 
pieces ; — no human power being able to divide what God made 
one at the creation. While these particles continue entire, they 
may compose bodies of one and the same texture in all ages ; 
but if they were liable to wear or break, the nature of things 
depending on them would be changed." 

§ 12. — But now arose a difficulty : these atoms become visi- 
ble and tangible when numbers of them aggregate together; 
hence, they cannot be as small as mathematical points, — no 
aggregation of which can obtain length, breadth, or thickness. 
Atoms, therefore, must possess length, breadth, and thickness. 
But whatever possesses length, breadth, and thickness, can be 
divided into parts ; where will you begin, then, to find the ele- 
mentary atoms ? Begin at what fragments you please, the frag- 
ment will be composed of parts, and can be divided. Pursuing 
this process, you never can arrive at the constituent particles 
which form the elements of matter. This difficulty is as old 
as Aristotle, who hence denied the existence of such particles. 
Modern ingenuity has removed the difficulty. God, at the crea- 
tion, made the atoms sufficiently small to answer his purpose, 
and constituted them indivisible, not from lack of parts, but from 
lack of penetrability ; and truly when we consider that the light 
which a candle emits every moment consists of a greater num- 
ber of these native particles than the number of all the sands 
on the sea shore, we may reasonably leave them without further 
diminution. Alas ! alas ! that these verbal disquisitions should 



150 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 

be confounded with the sensible realities of creation! The 
disquisitions are logical and ingenious I admit. They may be 
scientific!?, and useful ; and, like some other propositions, they 
may refer enigmatically to sensible particulars, which give them 
more significancy than is known to me ; but we shall gain no- 
thing by confounding verbal speculations with sensible realities. 

§ 13. — If you learn by my remarks to estimate correctly the 
above propositions only, you will have listened to me with but 
little benefit ; for the above positions are so glaringly discordant 
from sensible realities, that without any elucidation you may be 
willing to dismiss them as fallacies. To disclose the principles 
which make the propositions defective is my object ; that you 
may estimate correctly other propositions, which, though less 
repugnant to sensible experience, are as radically defective as 
the above. j 

§ 14. — We cannot enlarge our sensible knowledge by words. 

We can no more enlarge our sensible knowledge by words 
than you can enlarge the physical superficies of your farm by 
words, — or than you can disclose colours to the blind. The 
revolution, for instance, of the earth around its axis, and around 
the sun, are significant of many sensible phenomena. These 
constitute the sensible signification (the x) of the propositions ; 
while all that is not sensible is verbal. The words may be 
interesting, — they may be logical processes, and mathematical 
processes ; but they are not the realities of the external uni- 
verse. These our senses alone can reveal to us. 

§ 15. — Sensible existences will not conform to our phraseology, 
but our phrases will signify the sensible existences to which 
the phrases refer. 

The distant landscape which we behold from our window is, 
we are told, a wonderfully small miniature on the retina of our 
eye. The distant landscape is, however, not these words. So 
far as your words refer to what I behold, the distant landscape 



LECT. XII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 151 

is x* We may talk about it as we please, but the revelation 
of vision can alone give me sensible information in relation to it. 
Your language is sensibly significant of all the sensible revela- 
tions to which it refers, but all beyond is verbal. 

§ 16. — We must refer to the revelation of our senses for the 
meaning of words, and not refer to words for the meaning 
of what our senses reveal. 

But the colour of grass is certainly a sensation in our mind, 
and not any thing spread over the grass ? I answer, — the loca- 
tion of the colour (if you refer to the sensible signification of 
location) is not words. It is a\ To this you must refer for the 
meaning of any verbal location that you may give to colour.! 
If we appeal to words to explain the revelations of our senses, 
we are inverting the order of nature. We must appeal to our 
senses for the meaning of words. 

§ 17.— -All that my senses disclose, and all that I am conscious 
of experiencing within myself constitute the realities of na- 
ture. The rest of my knowledge is verbal. 

Our almost incessant employment of words tends to confound 
them with the phenomena of nature. We teach children the 
names of sensible existences, just as we teach them the names 
of the characters which compose the alphabet. The sight 
which we call moon, becomes to a child as much the sign of 
the word moon, as the sight of the character A becomes the 
sign of the sound which the character represents. The name 
and thing named become strangely confounded and identified. 
All our learning, from youth upwards, tends to confirm the con- 
fusion which exists between language and nature. Nothing is, 
however, more important to a correct understanding of language, 
than a subordination of it to natural existences ; and this subor- 
dination cannot be effected till we discriminate between words 
and natural existences. Nothing is also more easy than to make 
the discrimination, provided you cease from speaking, both au- 

* For a full explanation of this subject, see Lecture XXIII. f Ibid. 



152 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 

dibly in words, and inaudibly in thought * The words which 
we utter in thought are as dependant on natural existences for 
their signification, as the words which we articulate audibly. 
To discriminate, therefore, the realities of nature from language, 
we must deem no words as belonging to nature, whether the 
words be uttered in thought or speech. All elset that your 
senses disclose to you, or that you can experience within your- 
self by any means whatever, belong to nature. They are the 
archetypes of which words and verbal thoughts are but the 
artificial types. 

§ 18. — As bank notes are the artificial representatives of specie, 
so words are the artificial representatives of natural pheno- 
mena. 

We employ words as though they possess, like specie, an 
intrinsick and natural value ; rather than as though they possess, 
like bank notes, a merely conventional, artificial, and representa- 
tive value. We must convert our words into the natural realities 
which the words represent, if we would understand accurately 
their value. Some banks, when you present their notes for 
redemption, will pay you in other bank notes ; but we must not 
confound such a payment with an actual liquidation in specie. 
We shall still possess, in the new notes, nothing but the repre- 
sentatives of specie. In like manner, when you seek the mean- 
ing of a word, you may obtain its conversion into other words, 
or into some verbal thoughts ; but you must not confound such 
a meaning with the phenomena of nature. You will still pos- 
sess in the new words, nothing but the representatives of natural 
existences. 

§ 19. — When words attempt more than a reference to the reve- 
lation of our senses, the words may possess a verbal meaning, 
but not a sensible meaning. 

Every writer who treats of physicks, seems to carry on a 
game of bo-peep between nature and language. The verbal 

* See Lecture V, § 39. 

t Words also belong to nature in their character of unmeaning sounds. 



LECT. XII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 153 

meaning of a word, and its sensible meaning, are so confounded, 
(the writer referring at one moment to the verbal meaning, and 
at the next to the sensible meaning,) that a reader usually ac- 
quires by his study, a knowledge of the verbal ingenuity of 
man, but not a knowledge of the sensible realities of the 
universe. I wish not to depreciate verbal learning, but to 
mark distinctly the boundaries between what is verbal and what 
is sensible. Our senses alone can reveal to us sensible reali- 
ties ; and the moment words attempt to express more than our 
senses discover, the words lose all sensible signification, how 
much soever they may retain a verbal signification. 

§ 20. — The sensible signification of a theory is the sensible 
phenomena to which the theory refers. 

At one period a philosopher would say, that lightning is the 
effluvia of sulphureous and nitrous bodies, which meet in the 
air, and ignite by means of a strong fermentation. This was 
probably better than to say with the ancients, that lightning is 
an instrument of vengeance, formed by the Cyclops for the use 
of Jove. Both theories have been superseded by electricity ; 
hence we may reasonably suppose, that the electrick theory is 
better than its predecessors ; but they all are alike limited in 
sensible signification, to the sensible particulars to which they 
refer.* The sensible phenomena to which a theory refers can 
be revealed by the senses only, and must not be confounded 
with the theory, except to control its sensible signification. A 
change of theory is not always founded on an accession of sen 
sible knowledge. While we laugh at the ancients for deeming 
lightning a manufacture of the Cyclops, the sensible knowledge 
possessed by the ancients in relation to lightning may have been 
equal to ours. I believe it was equal, with the exception of 
some electrical experiments. Persons who are unacquainted 
with the distinction which exists between verbal learning, and 
the sensible realities of nature, contrast too disparagingly to the 
unlearned, the amount of sensible knowledge which the un- 
learned possess, in comparison with the sensible knowledge 



* See Lecture XVIII. 
20 



154 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 

possessed by the learned. The amount of sensible knowledge 
possessed by those who are learned in theories, is not neces- 
sarily greater than that possessed by a man who may be ac- 
quainted with no theory. + 

§ 21. — We confound theories with the realities of nature. 

In the " Polynesian Researches," published lately in London, 
the author, in speaking of some islands in the Pacifick ocean, 
says, " The tide is here very singular. If influenced at all by 
the moon, it is in a very small degree only. The height to 
which the water rises, varies but a few inches during the whole 
year. Whatever be the age or situation of the moon, the water 
is lowest at six in the morning, and the same hour in the even- 
ing, and highest at noon and midnight." The writer seems 
embarrassed by the usual confusion of words with sensible 
realities. He evidently is seeking in nature for "the influence 
of the moon," instead of seeking in nature for the sensible 
meaning of those words. To me, nothing is less surprising 
than the facts to which he refers, because I know that the sen- 
sible signification of those words is nothing but numerous and 
various sensible incidents which we discover in different seas. 
If the seas to which the writer alludes exhibit nothing that can 
yield those words a sensible signification, I shall not deem the 
circumstance a wonder of nature, but an instance of inapplica- 
bility in an ingenious verbal contrivance of man. 

§ 22. — Every theory possesses a verbal meaning as well as a 

sensible. 

The star * Draconis is 400,000 times more distant from the 
earth than the sun, or 38,000,000,000,000 miles distant. I object 
not to this verbal distance. It is, I presume, scientifically and 
mathematically deduced ; but let no man confound it with the 
sensible realities of nature. The sensible meaning of the 
alleged distance is not the sights and feels that distance ordina- 
rily designates, but something which, when it shall be disclosed 
to your senses by astronomers, will be found to consist of but 
a few very simple celestial appearances. The verbal meaning 



LECT. XII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 155 

of the distance is different. It relates to various mathematical 
processes. So long as the verbal meaning is thus discriminated 
from the sensible meaning, no astonishment nor incredulity will 
be excited by the proposition. Astronomers are, however, con- 
stantly endeavouring to confound the verbal meaning with the 
sensible meaning. They seem to glory in the confusion, and 
to derive an homage to their science from the shadowy mis- 
conception. 

§ 23. — We cannot, transmute sights, feels, fyc, into words, 
though we strive after the transmutation with an entire un- 
consciousness that we are transmuting one sentence only into 
another. 

" When I touch a stone," says Professor Beattie, in his Essay 
on Truth, " I become conscious of a certain sensation, which I 
call hardness ; but this sensation is not hardness itself, nor any 
thing like hardness: — it is nothing more than" — what, think 
you ? Nothing more than just what it is. Language can only 
name it, and naming it will only mislead us. We shall best 
understand the natural signification of the word hardness by 
dispensing with all language, and accepting as a signification 
the mute revelation of our senses. But such a procedure does 
not suit Professor Beattie. He says, that hardness is nothing 
more " than a sensation or feeling in my mind, accompanied, 
however, with an irresistible belief, that the sensation is excited 
by the application of an external and hard substance to some 
part of my body." 

\ 24. — Let us examine the above : — " When I touch a stone, 
the sensation is nothing more than a feeling in my mind," &c. 
Is the sensation nothing but those words ? No — it is oc, and no 
words can supply its place. Words can only name it, or refer 
us to our experience. You may deny Mr. Beattie's definition, 
and say with me, that hardness is nothing but a name given to 
designate a feel, &c. ; but let us not deceive ourselves by sup- 
posing that either of our verbal designations is hardness. We 
may convert the word into such other words as we deem appro- 
priate, and we may wrangle about the propriety of our expres- 



156 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 

sions ; but the sensible signification of hardness is not convertible 
into words. It is communicable by our senses only. 

§ 25. — Words are sometimes the ultimate meaning of words. 

What is conscience ? The dictionary says, " the faculty by 
which a man judges of the moral quality of his own actions." 
But conscience is not these words. What is conscience apart 
from words ? It is x. And what is x ? What I experience 
within myself. If I experience nothing within myself; if I 
employ the word conscience with reference to nothing but the 
dictionary definitions, or some other words, the x will signify 
those words. The x will in every case signify the ultimate 
meaning of the word to which it is applied, whether the ulti- 
mate meaning be words, the information of my senses, or an 
internal feeling, &c. 

§ 26. — In all discussions, ive should discriminate whether we are 
attempting to define a word, or to designate an existence. 

What is the moon? If an infant were to ask me this 
question, I might tell him to go into the street, and on looking 
towards the sky, he would discover something that looks like a 
large round piece of silver. That is the moon. You may say 
that my designation will not enable the child to find the moon, 
and you may give him some better description. We probably 
shall not altercate, because we shall understand that our words 
are intended to merely point out to the child something that is 
different from the words. But suppose I were to ask a philoso- 
pher to tell me what the moon is ; he might say that the moon 
is an opaque globe of land and water, like our earth. He is not 
attempting to designate an existence, as I did to the child ; but 
he is defining the word moon. My words were not supposed to 
be the moon itself; but the philosopher's definition is the moon 
verbally at least. You probably now understand what I mean 
by saying, that in all verbal discussions we should discriminate 
whether we are attempting to define a word, or to designate an 
existence. The discrimination is seldom made, and the want 
of it produces much contention and confusion. 



LECT. XII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 157 

§ 27. — What is the human soul ? " The immortal part of 
man," says a universalist. " The living, accountable spirit," 
says an orthodox divine. "The thinking substance," says a 
deist. They may contend vehemently ; but they should know 
what they are attempting to accomplish. If they wish to ascer- 
tain the best verbal definition of the word soul, they may con- 
tend for that object in the above language, or in any which they 
prefer. But the soul itself, so far as the word names an exist- 
ence, is not the above words, nor any other. It is x. Would 
you know what it is in nature, you must dismiss all words, (both 
those of speech and those of thought,) and seek the meaning 
of the word soul in the mute revelation of your senses, and the 
equally mute revelation of your internal experience. When 
you have thus found the meaning of the word soul, you may 
endeavour to designate to me the phenomena that you have dis- 
covered. No man will care what words you employ in this 
designation, so long as he understands that your object is only 
to direct his studies or consciousness to some revelations of 
nature. 

% 28. — We mistake for sensible investigations, what are only 
verbal deductions from artificial definitions. 

The Cyclopedia says, " Matter is an extended, solid, divisible, 
moveable, passive substance, the first principle of all natural 
things, from the various arrangements and combinations where- 
of all bodies are formed." But matter is not these words, 
They constitute the verbal meaning of the word matter. Not, 
however, noting the distinction, every philosopher resolves mat- 
ter into a definition, and then reasons about his definition, be- 
lieving that he is discussing the sensible realities of creation, 
while he is discussing nothing but verbal consequences deduced 
from his definition. The Cartesians, for instance, resolve mat- 
ter into solidity, divisibility, &c, and infer thence that as solidity 
nor divisibility can exist without extension, extension must exist 
before anything can be solid or divisible ; — therefore extension 
alone is the essential property of matter. 



158 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 

§ 29. — Doctor Clark dissents from the above conclusion of 
Descartes ; for " if extension were the essence of matter, space 
would be matter ; and as space is infinite and eternal, matter 
would be infinite and eternal, and could be neither created nor 
annihilated. Besides, the nature of gravity, the motion of com- 
ets, and the vibration of pendulums, prove space to be immate- 
rial ; hence, extension is not the essence of matter." Nothing 
can be more acute and logical than these discussions ; but to 
suppose that they are physical investigations, is to confound 
words with things. So far as the deductions refer to sensible 
information, they belong to the external realities of nature ; but 
so far as they are verbal deductions from the definition of the 
word matter, they are mere processes of language. Every 
definition is analogous to a sum in arithmetick. The figures 
may be multiplied, subtracted, added, and divided, by virtue of 
the general laws which regulate numbers ; but the result may 
not indicate any thing which exists in nature : so the words 
which compose a definition may be ratiocinated by virtue of 
the general laws that regulate words ; but the result may not 
indicate any thing which exists in nature. 

§ 30. — The errour to which I refer, of mistaking verbal de- 
ductions for sensible realities, is perhaps sufficiently exemplified 
in the above instances, but I will state another: — Newton de- 
fined all material bodies to be a congeries of corpuscles uniform 
and alike ; and hence inferred that the difference which bodies 
exhibit in colour, hardness, taste, &c, results from the differ- 
ent arrangement only of the corpuscles of which the bodies are 
composed. You perceive that the conclusion proceeds from the 
definition as irresistibly, as that a moon multiplied by twenty 
becomes twenty moons ; but whether nature conforms to either 
the multiplication or the deduction, depends on nature, and not 
on the processes of multiplication and logick. The sensible 
reality is not necessarily connected with the verbal process, or 
the mathematical process. 



LECT. XII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 159 



$ 31. — We mistake words for things. 

But after material bodies are all resolved thus into little verbal 
corpuscles of a uniform size and shape, how came they to ar- 
range themselves together so as to form gross, sensible bodies, 
of different shapes and sizes ? and even how do they adhere 
together at all ? Locke deemed this a great, and even undis- 
coverable mystery ; and nothing is more evident from his re- 
marks, than that he expected no other answer than a quantity 
of words. How curious a delusion ! The object sought is the 
sensible cohesion of matter into various shapes, sizes, &e. ; and 
the answer is not to be any revelation of the senses, but some 
sentences of words. What a curious mistake of words for 
things ! 

§ 32. — Newton eventually furnished the answer: "Every 
particle of matter possesses an attractive power, or a tendency 
to every other particle. The power is strongest in the point of 
contact, and decreases so suddenly, that it acts not, where any 
distance is discoverable by our senses. At a greater distance 
than that which produces attraction, the particles possess a 
repellent power, and fly from each other." 

§ 33.- — I will not say that Newton, or any other person, be- 
lieves that the above words constitute the cement which holds 
together the particles of matter, and forms them into different 
shapes, sizes, &c. ; but, practically, the words are deemed the 
cement in the reasoning of philosophers ; who, while they are 
investigating the relation of the words to each other, seem to 
believe that they are investigating the realities of the external 
creation : hence, Newton says further, " the smallest particles 
cohere by the strongest attractions, and compose bigger parti- 
cles of weaker virtue ; and many of these may cohere and 
compose still bigger particles, whose virtue is still weaker ; and 
so on for divers successions, till the progressions end in the 
biggest particles on which the operations in chymistry depend, 
and the colours of natural bodies. The particles, when thus 
enlarged, still further cohere, till they become sufficiently large 



160 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART II. 

to be discoverable by our senses. If the body which they ulti- 
mately compose is compact, and bends or yields inward to pres- 
sure, (without any sliding of its parts,) and returns to its figure 
with a force arising from the attraction of its parts, it is hard 
and elastick; — if the parts slide from one another, the body is 
malleable or soft; — if they slip easily, and are of a fit size to 
be agitated by heat, and the natural heat is great enough to keep 
them in agitation, the body is fluid; — and if it be apt to stick 
to things, it is humid." These are some of the speculations of 
Newton — as wise a man as ever lived, but unacquainted with 
the true character of language. What a waste of effort ! and 
all from not discovering the difference between words and the 
realities of nature ; — from not seeing that the words into which 
he resolves matter, are not natural matter, but verbal matter ; 
and that his deductions are not physical facts, but verbal conse- 
quences of his verbal premises. 



PART THIRD. 



OF LANGUAGE WITH REFERENCE TO THE RELATION WHICH 
WORDS BEAR TO EACH OTHER. 



LECT. XIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 163 



LECTURE XIII. 

LANGUAGE COMMANDS OUR ASSENT TO PROPOSITIONS WHEN WE 
DISCOVER THAT THEIR PREMISES AFFIRM THEIR CONCLU- 
SIONS. 

When Agib, the son of Zorader, desired knowledge, he was 
commanded by a venerable Lama of Thibet, to seek knowledge 
amid the stones which lie scattered over the peninsula of Gu- 
zurat. Agib was discouraged. " Behold !" said he, " the stones 
are countless ; the way is also through the jungle of the tiger, 
and beset with the ravenous boa." "Ascend, then," said the 
Lama, " the heights of Caucasus, and seek knowledge among 
the birds which periodically pass from the Black sea to the 
Caspian." " Alas !" exclaimed Agib, " the mountain is infested 
with hostile tribes, and eternal snows disform its summit." " Go, 
then," said the Lama, " to the beautiful valley which lies before 
us ; penetrate the earth, and knowledge shall be disclosed." 

Agib departed. The sun burst from a cloud that had just 
irrigated the fields. Birds filled the air with harmony. Odours 
refreshed every breeze, and all nature was animation and beauty. 
Agib approached joyfully the spot which the Lama had desig- 
nated. " Now," exclaimed he, " knowledge shall become my 
possession. Age shall admire my attainments, and youth con- 
tend to show me honour." He cast aside a mantle by which his 
efforts might be impeded, and excavated the earth with activity. 
Soon, however, the soil became compact, and the strength of 
Agib less efficient, when the appearance of a mass of stone 
seemed to preclude all further progress. Agib returned to the 
Lama, who decided that the stones must be removed. By great 
labour he removed them, and the cavity was immediately filled 
with water. In despair Agib again besought the Lama, who 
commanded that the water should be exhausted. Agib ex- 
liausted the water, still nothing was discoverable but a bed of 



164 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 

slate. Bruised and dejected, he once more informed the Lama. 
" Sluggard !" exclaimed the weary priest, " what did you expect 
to find ? You have discovered a ledge of stone that may build 
temples : you have disclosed a spring which may cherish 
herds ; and more, you have ascertained that though knowledge 
may be pleasant and profitable, the pursuit of it is laborious 
and painful." 

We probably need not the experience of Agib to teach us 
that every thing estimable must be costly. Providence seems 
to impress this law on all the blessings with which we are sur- 
rounded. Even health cannot be retained without labour, nor 
reputation, without a constant warfare against evil enticements. 
Summon, then, all your resolution to proceed with our inves- 
tigations, though they should increase your information but a 
little. If knowledge were attainable without effort, it might 
possess, like air and water, a theoretical homage ; but it would 
command no practical reverence. 

§ 1. — Reasoning can effect no more than to show us that the 
conclusion is admitted by the premises. 

My preceding lectures discuss the signification of words. I 
propose to speak now of the power by which language com- 
mands our assent to certain propositions ; for instance, why are 
we forced to admit that a half is less than the whole ? 

§ 2. — We assent to a proposition when we find that the pre- 
mises affirm the conclusion. This is the whole process of 
argumentation. The most elaborate reasoning can effect no 
more than to show us that the conclusion is admitted by the 
premises. Why, then, is a half less than the whole ? Because 
the term half admits that it is less : — no other reason exists. 

§ 3. — "The table which we see seems," says Hume, "to 
diminish as we remove from it ; but the real table (which 
exists independently of us) suffers no alteration. What we 
see is, therefore, nothing," continues Hume, " but the image 
of the real table." 



LECT. XIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 165 

§ 4. — Why ? Because the premises include an admission 
that the table which we see is not the real table. Those who 
discover that the premises affirm this conclusion, will assent to 
the deduction ; while others will be unconvinced. 

§ 5.—" If we are unable to discover truth, the defect," says 
Plato, " must arise from one of two causes ; either no truth 
exists, or man's faculties are inadequate to its discovery." 

§ 6.—- Why are we driven to this alternative ? Because, to 
say that we are unable to discover truth, admits Plato's con* 
elusions. Those only will assent to the dilemma, who see that 
it is included in the premises ; other persons will say that they 
require further proof. 



o? 



§ 7. — Cameades held, that the senses, the understanding, 
and the imagination, frequently deceive us ; and therefore 
cannot be infallible. Why? Because, to admit that they 
frequently deceive .us, implies that they are fallible. 

§ 8. — No truth has been more voluminously enforced than the 
existence of God ; still, those who essay to prove verbally this 
position, (by any other authority than revelation,) must proceed 
in the manner which I have stated. The arguments generally 
employed, are the marks of design everywhere apparent, and 
the impossibility of a creation without a creator. But why can 
we not suppose a creation without a creator? Because the 
word creation includes the admission of a creator. In the same 
way, the word contrivance admits a contriver ; the word design 
admits a designer ; and the word paintings admits a painter. 

§9. — "All the universe," says Hume, "exhibits harmony. 
Every thing is adjusted to every thing. One design pervades 
the whole, and this uniformity leads the mind to acknowledge 
one author." 

§ 10. — Why ? Because, to say that every thing is adjusted 
to every thing, and one design pervades the whole, admits an 
adjuster and a designer. i 



166 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III, 

§11 .—Again, he says, " the whole face of nature bespeaks 
an intelligent author, and no rational inquirer can suspend his 
belief a moment with regard to the primary principles of genuine 
theism." 

§ 12. — But how does the face of nature bespeak an intelli- 
gent author ? Because it bespeaks intelligence. But how does 
the face of nature bespeak an author ? Because I see in it a 
design, contrivance, and creation. Before the conclusions of 
Hume are inevitable, we must admit these premises, which 
tacitly embrace the conclusions. 

§ 13. — The Edinburgh Encyclopedia says: "there must be 
a self-existent being." Why ? Because, if every thing which 
exists was created by another, we can never arrive at a begin- 
ning. If A was created by B, who created B ? D. Who 
created D ? E. Who created E ? and thus we may proceed 
illimitably. But every series includes tacitly the admission of 
a beginning : hence we must eventually arrest our progression, 
and admit a self-existent being. 

§ 14. — WJien our conclusions are not obviously admitted by our 
premises, we explain the premises so as to show that they 
embrace the conclusion. The explanation is sometimes in 
the form of proofs, and sometimes a definition. 

Paley's Natural Theology says, "neither the universe nor 
any part of it can be the Deity." Why ? for the only reason 
that can be given in any argument: — the premises affirm the 
conclusion. But every person may not see that the premises 
affirm the conclusion, hence the writer adduces proofs : that is, 
he teaches us how we may discover that the premises admit his 
conclusion. He says, "the universe is merely a collective 
name ; its parts are all which are real. Now inert matter can- 
not be the Deity, nor can organized substances, for they include 
marks of contrivance ; and whatever includes marks of con- 
trivance, carries us to something beyond itself, to a contriver 
who is prior to the thing contrived, and different from it." 



tECT. XIII,] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 167 

§ 15. — But why cannot the inert parts of the universe be the 
Deity ? Because the term inert negatives such a conclusion. 
But the organized parts also cannot ? No. Because the word 
organized admits an organizer, and Deity is impliedly self- 
existent. 

§ 16. — "No animal," continues the same writer, "can have 
contrived its own limbs and senses." Why ? Because an im- 
plication attaches to the premises, that an animal cannot exist 
till its limbs and senses have been contrived. 

§ 17. — "Nothing," he adds, "can be God which is ordered 
by a wisdom and a will superior to its own ; and nothing can 
be God which is indebted for any of its properties to a con- 
trivance beyond itself." 

$ 18. — Why ? For one reason only ; the word God excludes 
from its signification these consequences. Lest we might not 
know this, and hence not assent to his conclusions, Mr. Paley 
furnishes the word with a definition : thus, he says, " having in 
its nature what requires the exertion of no prior being, apper- 
tains to the Deity as an essential distinction, and removes his 
nature from that of all other beings." 

§ 19. — He says further : " since something must have existed 
from eternity, it is frequently asked why the universe may not 
be that something." He answers, " the contrivance perceived 
in it proves that to be impossible, for the contriver must have 
existed before the contrivance." Why ? Because the word 
contrivance implies such a conclusion : — no other reason exists. 
But why must something have existed from eternity ? Because, 
to say that any thing is produced, admits a producer ; to say 
that any thing is made, admits a maker ; to say that any thing 
exists, admits a cause : hence, how ancient soever the universe 
may be, something must have preceded it; something must 
have existed from eternity. 

§ 20. — That the earth must be globular, is a conclusion which 
also language forces us to adopt. In a plane, we tacitly admit 



]68 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III* 

that some place exists where the plane terminates, where we 
may step or fall off. But we discover no such on the earth, 
hence the earth is not a plane. What shape, then, must the 
earth possess? Globular. Why? Because, to say that no 
precipitous termination exists, implies globosity. From a like 
necessity, we create antipodes, and all the other wonders incul- 
cated by astronomy. 

§ 21 .-—In Gill's Body of Divinity, the author says, " though 
angels are not endued with bodies, yet, as they are creatures, 
they must exist somewhere." Why ? Because the consequence 
is included in the meaning which he attaches to the premises, 
that angels are creatures. He proceeds to ask where they could 
exist before the heavens and the earth were made, and concludes 
that they could exist nowhere. Why? Because the some- 
where which he deems necessary, is included either in heaven 
or earth. The object of the author is to prove that angels were 
made subsequently to the heavens : a conclusion which is but 
an iteration of his previous admissions. 

§ 22. — " Every object, how gorgeous soever its colour in the 
light, is void of colour in the dark." Perhaps you will not 
assent to this proposition, though you will admit that colour is 
invisible in the dark. Natural philosophy proceeds, therefore, 
as follows : " colour is the reflection of certain coloured rays of 

light." 

Admit this, and objects become remedilessly void of colour 
in the dark.* If you cannot apprehend this consequence, the 
following arguments may convince you, for they will show you 



* When a tradesman brings me an account which asserts that I am his debtor, 
say a hundred dollars, I may be sure that the aggregate is fairly stated,' for few 
men are careless enough to commit an errour in addition. The items of the bill 
may require examination. So, when a logician tells me the conclusion to which he 
is arrived by any process of argumentation, I seldom care to investigate his argu- 
ments. I assume that he will not make a false deduction, any more than the 
tradesman will make a false addition. The part which requires examination are 
the logician's premises; — these are like the tradesman's items. Most people, 
however, waste all their attention on a logician's arguments, and let him assume 
what premises he pleases. This is analogous to permitting a tradesman to charge 
you without restraint, provided he will be honest in his addition of the items. 



LECT. XIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 169 

t9at the consequence is included in the premises : — 'thus, colour 
is nothing but the reflection of certain coloured rays of light ; 
hence, where no light exists, no reflection of coloured rays 
can exist ; therefore, all objects are void of colour in the dark, 
however they may be endued with the conformation of parts 
that adapts them to reflect in the light its most gorgeous rays. 

§ 23. — Propositions are sophistical when the conclusion is only 
seemingly (not actually) included in the premises. 

Professor Stewart says, "a few moments' reflection must 
satisfy any one, that the sensation of colour can reside in the 
mind only ; yet our constant bias is to connect colour with 
external objects." 

But why cannot colour be connected with external objects ? 
Because the premises affirm it to be a sensation in the mind. 
The proposition of Professor Stewart is, however, sophistical. 
In the premises he speaks of the sensation of colour, and in the 
conclusion he speaks of colour itself. A man may therefore 
say, that the sensation of colour resides in the mind, and yet 
the colour itself is connected with the external object. 

§ 24.— Sometimes the premises are made to admit very covertly 
the conclusion. 

" That light, itself a body, should pass freely through solid 
crystal, is regarded by us," says Professor Brown, " as a phy- 
sical wonder." 

Why ? Because, to say light is " itself a body," includes an 
admission that it should encounter a difficulty in passing through 
" solid crystal." 'This is a striking illustration of the indirect 
method by which premises may be made to affirm a conclusion. 
To say simply that light passes through solid crystal, would 
exhibit no reason why it should not pass ; but when we add 
that light is " itself a body," we discover at once that it should 
encounter opposition. 



170 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III, 



§ 25. — Similar principles with the foregoing govern our assent 
to mathematical propositions. 

Proposition IV, Theorem 1st, in the first book of Euclid, 
says: — "Let ABC, DEF, be two triangles, which have the 
two sides, AB, AC, equal to the two sides, DE, DF, each to 
each ; viz, AB to DE, and AC to DF ; and the angle BAC, 
equal to the angle EDF : the base BC shall be equal to the 
base EF." 





That the base BC is equal to the base EF, is evidently ad- 
mitted by the premises, which affirm that the angle BAC is 
equal to the angle EDF, and the sides AB, AC, equal to the 
sides DE, DF. But let us examine if the proof adduced by 
Euclid changes the character of the process. He says, if the 
triangle ABC be applied to DEF, so that the point A may be 
on D, and the straight line AB upon DE ; the point B shall 
coincide with the point E. I would ask why? Because, says 
Euclid, AB is admitted to be equal to DE. The proof, then, 
thus far, is avowedly an admission of the premises. 

§ 26. — The process is continued: thus, AB, coinciding with 
DE, AC shall coincide with DF. Why ? Because, says the 
demonstration, the angle BAC is admitted to be equal to the 
angle EDF ; but why does this prove that AC must coincide 
with DF ? It will not prove it to those who do not discover that 
the coincidence is included in the admitted equality of the two 
angles. Our assent is governed by this discovery alone. 



LECT. XIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 171 

§ 27. — A process, similar to what we have already investi- 
gated, is repeated to show that the point C must coincide with 
the point F ; wherefore, says the demonstration, as the point B 
also coincides with the point E, the base BC shall coincide with 
the base EF. Why? Because, says Euclid, if the base BC 
does not coincide with the base EF, two straight lines would 
inclose a space. And how do you prove that two straight lines 
cannot inclose a space ? By an admission in the tenth axiom 
that they cannot. Two straight lines, says the axiom, cannot 
inclose a space. 

§ 28. — In this theorem, then, the proofs are effected by show- 
ing that the points in debate are admitted either by the premises 
of the proposition, or by axioms, &c. I have operated on a 
theorem which is more easily analyzed than any other in Eu- 
clid, because the subsequent theorems are demonstrated by 
preceding ones : still, the same principle will be found in all. 

§ 29. — Are the foregoing principles of language conventional, 
or a dictate of our sensible experience ivith physical bodies ? 

I have now shown, that we assent to a proposition when we 
discover that the premises affirm the conclusion ; and that proofs 
and arguments effect nothing but to show us that such an af- 
firmation exists. I have investigated this subject too cursorily, 
but I will leave it, and proceed to show why certain premises 
affirm certain conclusions : for instance, why the word half im- 
plies that it is less than the whole. Perhaps you will say, that 
the meaning of the word half admits that it is less than the 
whole : but I ask how it acquires this meaning ? If you say, 
that common consent concurs in attaching this signification to 
the word, I ask how common consent came to this concurrence ? 
Finally, is the conclusion forced on us arbitrarily by the framers 
of language, that a half is less than a whole ? or does the con- 
clusion depend on some principle which is superiour to any 
such dictation? The answer to this question will constitute 
the subject of my next lecture. 



172 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III, 



LECTURE XIV. 

OUR ASSENT TO ANY PROPOSITION IS FOUNDED ON OUR 
SENSIBLE EXPERIENCE. 

For the eccentrick adventures with which it abounds, I occa- 
sionally visit the valley of imagination. In a recent excursion 
thither, I noted a young woman who was fleeing, as for her life. 
Her speed was impeded by an infant, which she held with some 
tenderness, while her face was suffused with tears. She fled 
from a monster, whose body was luminous and deformed. He 
seemed confident of his victim, and pursued her with increasing 
ardour. She arrived at a river, and turning to ascertain the 
proximity of her pursuer, plunged the infant in the stream. 

When thus disencumbered, whether she succeeded in her 
retreat I discovered not ; for my attention was arrested by two 
young men, who were preparing to encounter each other in 
mortal combat. Both would gladly have suspended their intent ; 
but when a relenting thought occurred to either, the monster 
whom I lately saw appeared, and with threatening gestures 
frightened the youth from his pacifick contemplations. 

Who is this potent being, who can urge a mother to immolate 
her infant, and terrify two gallant youths to the sacrifice of life ? 
" The monster whom you saw first is Shame," replied a loiterer 
like myself " the second is an impostor, who bears the name 
only of the former. Shame is the offspring of crime, but false 
shame is the descendant of folly. The first is justly feared; 
for whoever falls within his power, he impresses with a mark 
which burns intensely and durably. The second also affixes 
his mark on those whom he overtakes ; but though it pains for 
a period, it assuages, and the subject of his malice learns to 
contemn the monster and his assaults." 

This allegory bears but slightly on our subject; but these 
lectures would long since have yielded to the distractions of 



LECT. XIV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 173 

business, and the absence of extrinsick impulse, did not the fear 
of one of these monsters deter me from abandoning a labour 
publickly undertaken. The motive for perseverance is there- 
fore not very alluring ; but, as it is, proceed we with our dis- 
cussions. 

§ 1. — The incongruity and congruity of any two assertions are 
the result of our experience. 

Why cannot the same thing both be and not be ? Because 
the proposition contains two assertions which negative each 
other. How came the assertions by meanings so opposite ? By 
the consent of mankind. But what united on these opposite 
meanings the consent of mankind ? We may proceed thus in 
an endless train of assertions, without arriving at a satisfactory 
result. You will, however, remember that I promised to show 
in this lecture the reasons which compel us to yield our assent 
to propositions like the above. I proceed to the undertaking. 

§ 2. — The necessity for our assent to such propositions is 
founded on our sensible experience : thus, I can show you a 
knife, and tell you that the knife is visible. I can remove the 
knife, and tell you it is invisible. But why cannot the knife be 
both visible and invisible at the same time ? Try if you can 
effect such a coincidence, and you will discover why. The 
impossibility is what you will experience. It possesses no 
other meaning. 

§ 3. — The congruity and incongruity of any two assertions are 
not the results of the conventional meaning of words. 

Why cannot the same spot be, at the same time, both white 
and black ? Because the word white implies that the spot is 
not black. But how came white by this implication ? Was it 
arbitrarily imposed by the framers of language ? No. The 
incompatibility of the two colours is a result of experience. 
If I assert that the same spot cannot be both white and hard, 
the proposition will be untrue. Why? Because my senses 
can discover such a coincidence. No other reason exists. 



174 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 



§ 4. — The axioms of geometry are no otherwise authoritative 
than as they refer to our sensible experience. 

The axioms of geometry depend for their authority on similar 
principles. Why are things which are equal to the same, equal 
to one another ? " Because," says Mr. Campbell, " the two ex- 
pressions are equivalent to each other." But what makes them 
equivalent ? " The latter part of the phrase being a definition 
only of the former." This satisfied Mr. Campbell ; but I ask 
further, what makes the latter part a definition of the former ? 
"We may continue such questions interminably. The axiom 
means nothing but a reference to our sensible experience. 
Look, I can say, at these sticks. Those which are marked A 
and B are severally equal in height to the stick C. Why, now, 
must A and B be equal in height to each other ? Endeavour to 
produce a different result, and you will discover that the equality 
is unavoidable. The necessity is not verbal, nor logical, nor 
dependant on common consent. It is what you will discover 
by the experiment. The necessity possesses no other arche- 
type in nature. Independently of experience, we should no 
more know that A and B must produce the sight and feel that 
we call equal height, than that they must smell or taste alike. 

§ 5. — A contrivance implies a contriver, because the implication 
refers to our sensible experience. 

The word contrivance forces us to acknowledge a contriver. 
Why? Because contrivance contains an admission that it is 
the effort of some person whom we thence call a contriver. 
Yet how came the word contrivance to include such an admis- 
sion ? Is it an arbitrary fiat of those who framed the word ? 
No : the admission proceeds from our sensible experience — 
thus, I can tell you that I am completing a contrivance which 
will catch birds. What is the contrivance ? A trap — behold 
it ! Do you ask why this contrivance implies a contriver ? 
Try to produce such a contrivance without exerting some, 
agency, and you will discover why a contrivance is necessary. 



1ECT. XIV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 175 



§ 6. — Existence implies a beginning, because the implication 
refers to our experience. 

Again : to assert that any thing exists, admits a period when 
the object commenced existing. Why ? Because, to suppose 
an existence which never had a commencement, is absurd. 
Yet why is such a supposition absurd ? We may proceed 
interminably with such questions, unless we appeal from words 
to the sensible objects which the words signify ; when we shall 
easily discover the necessity that impels us to admit a com- 
mencement. What is an existence ? This house is an exist- 
ence. What is a beginning, when applied to the house ? That 
which I can show you where men are building. Why, then, 
does this existence imply a beginning ? Because the operations 
which I have exhibited to you must precede the house. Why 
must they ? Attempt to build a house without them, and you 
will discover. No other reason is effectual. 

§ 7. — Time which is not present must be either past or future, 
because the position is verified by our experience. 

I can say that time which is not present, must be either future 
or past. Why must it ? Because time is divided into present, 
past, and future. A negation of the present implies, therefore, 
that the remainder is either future or past. But whence arises 
this implication ? We may, without end and without instruc- 
tion, proceed in such inquiries ; but if we resort to the sensible 
phenomena to which the words allude, we shall soon discover 
why time that is not present must be either past or future. 
Thus : if the table at which I am standing is not now touched 
by me, I have either touched it already, or shall touch it here- 
after ; or I shall never be able to assert with truth that I have 
touched the table. Why ? Make the experiment, and you will 
discover. When you have found that your efforts cannot con- 
trovert my position, you may be told that the results are one 
meaning of the assertion, that time which is not present is 
either past or future. 



176 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III, 



§ 8. — That ice cannot be hot is an experimental incongruity. 

Ice cannot be hot. Why ? Because the name implies that 
it is, not hot. But how came it by this implication ? From 
experience only. The impossibility alludes to what you can 
discover if you attempt to heat ice : apart therefrom, no incom- 
patibility exists. 

§ 9. — All the implications of language, all its congruities and 
incongruities, must be interpreted by our sensible experience. 
They signify nothing more. 

Things which are double of the same are equal to one an- 
other. Why ? Because, to admit that A and B are severally 
double of C, is to admit that A is equal to B. But why ? Be- 
cause the words imply the equality. Yet whence the implica- 
tion? The necessity admits a final explication through our 
senses only. Endeavour to make both A and B double the 
length of C, without making A as long as B. You will then 
discover why A must be as long as B. The necessity is pre- 
cisely what you will experience. 

§ 10. — Again: the whole is greater than a part. Why] 
The word whole implies that it is greater. How came it by 
such an implication ? After we have bandied questions and an- 
swers till we are disgusted with trifling, we may appeal to our 
sensible experience, and discover readily why the whole is 
greater. Why, then, must the whole of an orange be greater 
than a part ? Endeavour to prevent it, and you will discover. 

§11 . — But can I not apply the axiom where no existence is 
discoverable? — Can I not say, that the whole of an invisible 
atom is greater than a part ? You can ; and this forms one of 
the most subtile and common delusions to which language sub- 
jects us. The consideration of it will constitute our next lec- 
ture. The present discourse shows that a part of an orange is 
less than the whole, by reason of our finding from experience 
that the result is inevitable. In my next lecture I shall show 



LECT. XIV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 177 

that the proposition is wrested from the orange, and other sen- 
sible objects, and applied to invisible atoms, &c., where the 
necessity exists in the forms of language only. This applica- 
tion is the basis of nearly every metaphysical speculation. It 
is the magician's wand which transports us from a world of 
grave realities into regions where even our solid and firm-fixed 
earth revolves in a giddy velocity of many hundred miles during 
every instant of time ; where the inhabitants bear severally 
fourteen tons of atmospherick pressure ; where antipodes exist, 
whose heads are diametrically opposite to those of other men ; 
and where the smallest line may be divided interminably, be- 
coming less for ever, without extinction. The difference, you 
perceive, is important, between propositions which experience 
forces us to assent to, and propositions which the forms of 
language compel us to admit. The first surprise us with no 
chimeras or gorgons dire. Every result is precisely what 
coincides with our daily occupations. It furnishes us with a 
stable earth, with an erect and congenial position for our heads, 
and with an agreeable levity of atmosphere. In the midst of 
these comforts we will end the present lecture. 



23 



178 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. ("PART III. 



LECTURE XV. 

AFTER SENSIBLE EXPERIENCE COMMANDS OUR ASSENT TO CER- 
TAIN FORMS OF SPEECH, WE APPLY THE FORMS WHERE NO 
SENSIBLE PHENOMENA ARE DISCOVERABLE. 

§ 1 . — In my last lecture, I showed that when we say the whole 
of an orange is greater than a part, we admit the position be- 
cause experience has taught us that the conclusion is inevitable. 
The same principle governs our assent when we say that every 
design implies a designer, and every creation implies a creator. 

§ 2. — The implications of language, and the congruities and 
incongruities of words to each other, though significant of 
nothing but our sensible experience* are applied often where 
nothing sensible is discoverable. 

I said further, that we restrict not to oranges, &c, the asser- 
tion that the whole is greater than a part; but we apply it 
where the words refer to no sensible existence. I characterized 
this as the most subtile delusion to which language exposes us. 
The detection of this delusion is to constitute the present lecture. 

§ 3. — The word created owes to our experience its predica- 
bility ; hence, its predicability is not significant beyond our 
experience. 

What is the meaning of created ? I can see a brickmaker 
create bricks. I can hear sounds created. You can tell me to 
place a piece of sugar in my mouth, and it will create a taste ; 
or to press my hand against a needle, and it will create pain. 
Each of these processes furnishes a meaning of the word 

* See Lecture XI. 



LECT. XV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 179 

created. It is the name of these processes. But what do I 
mean by applying the word created to the sun ? The bricks 
are one existence, and the word created refers to something 
which is different from the bricks ; but when created is applied 
to the sun, I refer to nothing but the sun itself.* 

§ 4. — But the sun exists, and must not every existence have 
been created ? The necessity is verbal, and language is a con- 
trivance of men, and significant of their experience only. A 
creation is necessary to bricks, as we shall experience when we 
attempt to produce a brick without some creative process ; but 
when we apply the same language to the sun, the necessity 
refers to nothing, and signifies nothing.f 

§ 5. — Still, we discover that a brick must be created ere it 
can exist ; that a boat, house, or basket, cannot exist without a 
previous creation ; and shall we suppose that the sun can exist 
without a previous creation ? I answer, that the word created 
is merely a name invented by men to refer to some of their 
operations and actions : when thus used, created is significant ; 
but when we apply it to the»sun, where no process is apparent, 
the word returns to the original insignificance which it possessed 
before men applied it to the purposes of language ; that is, it 
becomes an unmeaning sound. 

§ 6. — Words possess no inherent signification. Their signifi- 
cation must be interpreted by ivhat we see, feel, taste, smell, 
and hear. Words possess also no inherent predicability. 
Their predicability must be interpreted by what we see, feel, 
taste, smell, and hear. 

This doctrine must be abstruse to persons who have never 
esteemed language as a collection of mere sounds, that owe all 
their signification to the objects, &c, to which they refer. That 
nothing can exist without a previous creation is, besides, a pro- 
position which applies significantly to so many objects, that we 

* Unless I refer to the declarations of revelation. Created has then a significa- 
tion which is independent of the appearance of the sun. This remark must be 
remembered in every similar case. \ See Lecture IX, passim. 



180 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III, 

cannot wonder it should bo deemed universally applicable. The 
housewife who applies the proposition to her breads means that 
the loaf would not have existed had she not wet the flour and 
kneaded the dough. The miller who applies it to the flour, 
means that the flour would not have existed had he not sub- 
jected the wheat to the operations of his mill ; and the husband- 
man who applies it to the wheat, refers to his seeding the earth, 
and to various phenomena from seed time to harvest. Suppose, 
however, we say that the earth could not have existed without 
a previous creation ; we allude to nothing but the earth itself. 
When we think that we allude further, we mean merely that 
bread cannot exist without a previous creation ; that flour, 
wheat, bricks, &c., cannot exist without a previous creation.* 

§ 7. — But are we not sure that a period existed when the 
being of the sun commenced ? This question is like the former. 
If I say that a period existed when every brick commenced its 
being, you may ask what I mean. I shall again show you the 
operations of a brickmaker, and designate what I mean. But 
why must the existence of every brick have a commencement ? 
Try to produce a brick without, a«d you will discover. The 
necessity is what you will experience. That a house, ship, 
tree, or an animal, must have a commencement, refers to some 
sensible operation ; but when the word is applied to the sun, it 
confessedly refers to nothing, and is therefore a sound divested 
of signification.f 

§ 8. — We do not attribute sweetness to the sun, for the same 
reason that we do attribute a commencement to the sun. 
This alone may teach us that the attribution of either is sig- 
nificant of nothing that we know of the sun. 

If all tactile objects possessed a sweet taste, we should con- 
sider sweetness essential to the sun, in the same manner as we 
consider a commencement essential. We now attribute to the 
sun temperature, gravity, density, and every other property that 
is constantly associated with the bodies which we can handle . 

* See Lecture IX, passim. t Ibid. 



LECT. XV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 181 



§ 9. — A negation that refers to nothing is as insignificant as 
an assertion that refers to nothing. Both must be inter- 
preted by the sensible phenomena to ivhich the words refer. 

You may ask whether I mean to assert that the sun's exist- 
ence never had a commencement. No. Commenced pos- 
sesses no signification but as a name of something ; and when 
applied to the sun, the word refers to nothing : hence it is used 
insignificantly. To apply the word bitter to the sun will not 
affect the sun, but it will affect the word. It will render the 
word insignificant. The same principle applies to commence- 
ment, whether it be affirmed of the sun or denied. It is equally 
insignificant in both cases. 

§ 10. — Words are an invention of man to designate his oper- 
ations and the revelations of his senses. The principle 
which makes words significant when they refer to these t 
makes words insignificant when they refer not to these. 

Natural theology assumes credit for the discovery of a self- 
existent being. How ? " Because," says natural theology,. 
" if every existence has been created by a preceding existence, 
we can never arrive at a commencement." But as much diffi- 
culty exists in conceiving a self-existent being, as in conceiving 
a succession of existences without a commencement.* This 
dilemma natural theology cannot avoid. Language allows no 
alternative but to choose between the two equally inconceivable 
propositions; — a being without a creator, or a succession of 
creators without a beginning. The dilemma ought to teach us 
that we are using language insignificantly ; that words are in- 
vented to designate our operations and experience j and when 
words refer not to these, they again become sounds which 
signify nothing. 

* But what is the difficulty in either case ? It exists in the absence of some 
corresponding sensible experience in us. We should find an equal difficulty in 
conceiving that water can quench fire, or fire consume wood, were the assertions 
not significant of our experience. 



182 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 

§ 11. — Even the necessity which impels us to require a 
creator in the production of objects, shows that the word refers 
simply to the operations that fall under our observation. Why 
must bricks have a creator ? Try to produce a brick, and you 
will discover. The necessity of a creator will be not verbal 
merely, but what you will experience. But when you ask me 
why the sun must have a creator, I cannot tell you to produce 
a sun, and thus discover the necessity. I can only appeal to 
the forms of language — forms which refer to sensible objects 
and operations, and which possess no signification where the 
objects and operations are not discoverable. The ability to 
predicate a creator in infinitum, is as complete as to predicate 
it of the sun ; and we are compelled eventually to abandon the 
process, and admit that we are arrived where the process is no 
longer applicable. This alone ought to teach us that the whole 
process is insignificant, where it refers to no sensible archetype 
It is like the ability to predicate a division of matter in ' infini- 
tum. Both processes proceed on the same principle, and both 
are equally fallacious, and merely verbal. 

§ 12. — This doctrine is so novel, that I may be accused of 
saying that the sun had no creator. Such an assertion is no 
more significant than its converse. The phenomena to which 
words refer give them significancy ; and when we employ a 
phrase without referring to any discoverable existence or opera- 
tion, the words are divested of signification. That the sun was 
created is highly significant, when we refer to the declarations 
of scripture. The assertion will signify those declarations, &c; 
but when we refer to nothing, our assertion signifies nothing. 

§ 13. — Verbal processes may usually be continued intermina- 
bly ; hence they differ characteristically from sensible reali- 
ties, which are always finite. 

The deity of natural theology is further established by the 
same process differently applied: thus, matter cannot begin to 
move of itself. It must have a mover. The conclusion is 
unavoidable, and this alone may teach us that the words relate 



LECT. XV,] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 183 

to our actions and experience. Why is a mover necessary to 
give motion to my pen? Try, and you will discover. You 
will find a perfect quiescence till your hand, the wind, or some 
other agent, moves it. The necessity is not derived from the 
nature of the words, but from the sensible facts to which the 
words refer. Besides, we possess another proof that the neces- 
sity, when it refers to nothing sensible, is insignificant; we must 
either proceed illimitably to predicate a mover, or eventually 
abandon the necessity, and admit that something moves without 
a mover : thus, what makes my pen move ? My hand. What 
makes my hand move ? A. What makes A move ? B. What 
makes B move? — and so in infinitum. The same necessity 
exists that the last shall have a mover as the first. This, how- 
ever, leads to an absurdity. But we do not adopt the obvious 
conclusion, that we are using language insignificantly ; but we 
adopt the incongruity, that at length something moves without 
a preceding mover. 

$ 14. — Another discovery which natural theology claims, is 
the existence of a being infinitely perfect. " The maker of any 
thing must be more perfect than the thing which he makes ; 
hence, the maker of all things must be infinitely perfect." But 
why? Because the words refer to our operations and expe- 
rience. The watchmaker must be more knowing than the 
watch, and the musical instrument maker more knowing than 
his instrument. When thus applied, the proposition refers 
to sensible experience ; but when we use it without such a 
reference, the words are unmeaning, and may be (as in all 
similar cases) predicated in infinitum : thus, B, the maker of a 
watch, must be more perfect than the watch ; but C, the maker 
of B, must be more perfect than B ; and so to the end of the 
alphabet, without arriving at an infinitely perfect being, unless 
we arrest the process, and say we have reached a being so 
perfect that the maker of it is not more perfect. This incon- 
gruity can be avoided only by another, which is at least equal ; 
that the being exists without a maker. Consequences so 
incompatible ought to teach us that language is unfit for such 
processes, and that we must trust to revelation alone for every 
external thing beyond the sensible phenomena with which Pro- 



184 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III, 

vidence has mercifully surrounded us. To these only, and to 
our internal experience, words refer ; nor can the wit of man 
devise a word which shall possess a wider reference. 

§ 15. — "Since something must have existed from eternity," 
says Paley, in his Natural Theology, " why may not the uni- 
verse be that something ?" He answers thus : " the contrivance 
which we perceive in the universe proves that it was preceded 
by a contriver, and hence it existed not eternally ." But why 
does a contrivance imply a contriver? Because both words 
refer to our operations. In them only the implication possesses 
a sensible signification. I would ask (but reverently) whether 
the appearance of Deity would not exhibit a contrivance as 
evidently as the universe ? If it would, even Deity could not 
have been eternal : for a contrivance implies a previous con- 
triver. Language is inadequate to such speculations ; they are 
even impious. The heathen make graven images — we make 
verbal ones ; and the heathen worship not more ardently the 
work of their hands, than we the work of our pens. 

§ 16. — That we are compelled to eventually abandon our verbal 
processes, should teach us their fallacy. 

But why must something have existed eternally ? Because 
language will not permit the assertion that any thing is pro- 
duced without a producer. Hence, how remote soever we 
place any production, the producer must be more remote. But 
whence this property of language ? From the reference which 
words bear to men and men's operations ; and nothing can more 
explicitly show the nullity of separating language from these 
operations, than the necessity which occurs eventually of aban- 
doning the process, and admitting that a point is reached beyond 
which the process is inapplicable ; that either something existed 
without a producer, or a series of producers existed without a 
beginning. 

§ 17. — That something must have existed eternally,, may also 
be deduced from the ancient maxim, that nothing can be pro- 
duced out of nothing. Why is the axiom true ? Because it 



LECT. XV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 185 

refers to our operations. Try if you can make a pen out of 
nothing, a brick out of nothing, a loaf out of nothing, and then 
you will know the necessity to which the axiom alludes. The 
necessity arises from no decree of the authors of language, but 
from what will be revealed to you by the above experiments. 

§ 18. — With the above axiom the ancients maintained that 
the power of Deity extends no further than the arrangement of 
preexistent materials. The moderns extend the axiom not so 
far. We arrive where we say the axiom is no longer applica- 
ble : thus, what was the sun made out of? Say A. And what 
was A made of? B. And what was B made of? We may 
proceed thus without end. But an end must be found, or mat- 
ter is eternal ; hence we deny the maxim of the ancients, that 
nothing can be made out of nothing ; and we affirm that every 
thing was originally made out of nothing. 

§ 19. — Spinoza, disbelieving the result thus obtained, con- 
cluded boldly that Deity himself was the first material out of 
which all things were fabricated. This, he thought, was a 
great discovery of reason, by which the maxim, nihil Jit ex 
nihilo, was reconciled with the sole eternity of Deity. 

§ 20. — That our verbal processes, when pursued to their ulti- 
mate limits, lead to absurdities, should teach us that we are 
employing language insignificantly. 

When men find that language forces them to admit that all 
things were originally made either out of nothing, or out of 
God, we may pause, and at least doubt whether language is 
applicable to such speculations. The wisdom of the w r orld 
may well be accounted " foolishness with God." By accumu- 
lating and arranging words, we can no more discover any 
realities which we have not experienced, than we can, by 
taking thought, add a cubit to our stature. 

24 



186 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 

§ 21. — Creation is the interpreter of words, and ivords are not 
the interpreters of creation. 

" That matter cannot begin to move of itself, proves," says 
natural theology, " the existence of something immaterial :" 
thus, I include under the word matter every part which you 
can feel, see, taste, smell, and hear, of a horse. None of them 
can begin to move of itself. Then something is in the horse 
beside matter. Why ? I will show you. The horse is now 
slain. All the matter remains of which he was composed when 
alive, yet not a particle possesses motion ; hence, when the 
horse could move, something existed in him besides matter. 
The experiment proves itself, and nothing more nor less. We 
can refer to it by any expressions we think proper; but the 
signification of our expressions must be sought in the sights, 
sounds, tastes, feels, and smells, which we experience. We 
may contend that in a live horse something must exist beside 
matter, provided our expression refers to any thing ; but the 
moment the phrase is used to express more than our sensible 
experience, our words become insignificant even to ourselves. 
They become mere sounds and archetypes of nothing. 

§ 22. — Nothing can be sustained that is repugnant to revela- 
tion. Natural theology is founded on the same fallacy as 
Zend's problem of the tortoise. 

But you may contend that my system is subversive not only 
of natural theology, but of every other. If I thought this, I 
would never publish these suggestions. Fully impressed with 
the paramount authority of the Holy Scriptures, I admit that 
no repugnant doctrine can be true. I have said nothing but 
what will display the importance of revelation, and show infi- 
dels that their deity is a creation of their own ; the result of 
propositions which are precisely like Zeno's problem of Achilles 
and the tortoise. 

§ 23. — I never knew but one atheist, and his unbelief was 
fortified by the doctrines of natural theology. When you 



LECT. XV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 187 

attempted his conversion, by alleging the necessity of a creator 
for the sun, moon, &c, he would inquire, Who made them ? 
God. But who made God ? If you said God is uncreated, he 
would contend that you abandon the argument by which you 
seek his conversion ; for, if the sun must have had a maker, he 
considers one equally necessary to the maker of the sun ; and 
so in infinitum. Had this atheist known that language is imper- 
tinent to the whole discussion, he would have seen that verbal 
incompatibilities aiford no cause to disbelieve the being and 
attributes of Deity. 

§ 24. — Men must look to revelation alone, not for a Saviour 
only, but for every part of the Godhead, and every attribute of 
Deity. Infidels possess no alternative but revelation or entire 
ignorance. The god whom they acknowledge is a creature of 
language, and apart therefrom possesses no existence. He is 
like heathen deities, who probably all originated from verbal 
deductions like those of natural theologists. 

§ 25. — The deity of natural theology is generally moulded 
to suit the practices of his votaries. The murderer finds that 
his God is too exalted to regard the conduct of men ; the liber- 
tine considers the possession of inclinations as a proof that the 
gratification of them must be an acceptable homage to their 
maker; and the scoffer of sacred institutions believes that he 
is evincing a laudable contempt of rites which proceed from 
degrading views of the being of his adoration. All find not 
merely an excuse for their sins, but an incitement to sin. 

§ 26. — But what proofs have we of the truth of revelation ? 
We possess a testimony within ourselves — the Holy Spirit 
acting on our feelings, and producing the fervent acquiescence 
which we term faith. The sacred volume speaks also as never 
man spake. The happy tendency of its morality; its insight 
into the human character; its adaptation to every period and 
nation, and to every vicissitude of life ; all tend to bow the 
understanding and the will, not only to admit its doctrines, but 
to cling to them as the counsellor in the cares and pleasures of 
life, and the comforter in affliction, pain, and death. 



188 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 

§ 27. — But you may still say, if language can discourse of 
nothing but our sensible experience and internal consciousness, 
what can revelation teach ? A revelation must necessarily be 
adapted to our capacity. What we could not understand would 
be no revelation. It was given for the regulation of our con- 
duct, and not for the gratification of our curiosity. We are 
told the conduct which is pleasing to God, and the conduct that 
is displeasing. We are instructed how to obtain His favour, and 
how to become obnoxious to His displeasure. All that belongs 
to life is revealed in intelligible language, and what belongs to 
another life could not be intelligible in any language. 

§ 28. — My remarks on theology possess no object but to show 
that my views of language are compatible with revelation. 

Recollect that my remarks on theology are elicited inci- 
dentally. I once intended to omit them, they being too grave 
a subject for my discussion ; but I preferred to show the adap- 
tation of my doctrines to revelation, rather than to leave the 
adaption to other persons, who might misconstrue either my 
intentions or my tenets. Besides, natural theology afforded a 
good illustration of the errours to which we are liable, when we 
consider the conclusions of language applicable, not to the sen- 
sible phenomena only from which the conclusions derive their 
authority, but to cases where our senses can discover nothing : 
that is, because every thing made implies a maker, we suppose 
the proposition applicable not only to this house, this table, and 
the various other objects in which the necessity of a maker 
refers to our operations and experience, but to the earth and the 
sun, where the necessity refers to no sensible archetype. 

§ 29. — Finally, I have spoken of natural theology not to 
detect its errours, but to elucidate the nature of language. 
With the same view I intend to show some errours in various 
other departments of knowledge. This, however, would lead 
me further than your patience to-night will permit ; I therefore 
defer the subject to my next lecture. 



LECT. XVI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 189 



LECTURE XVI. 

AFTER SENSIBLE EXPERIENCE COMMANDS OUR ASSENT TO CER» 
TAIN FORMS OF SPEECH, WE APPLY THE FORMS WHERE NO 
SENSIBLE PHENOMENA ARE DISCOVERABLE. THE SUBJECT 
CONTINUED, AND FURTHER EXEMPLIFIED BY AN INVESTIGA- 
TION OF VARIOUS SCIENTIFICK TENETS. 

§ 1. — That an unsupported body will fall to the earth, is an 
experimental fact. The necessity is physical and not 
verbal. When the necessity is verbally implied, without 
referring to any thing sensible, the words return to their 
original insignificance. 

In my last lecture, I gave some examples in natural theology, 
of the manner in which we continue the forms of language, 
after the phenomena are withdrawn that give significancy to the 
forms. In the present lecture, I am to exemplify the same 
errour in other branches of learning ; and when we shall 
exhibit the conclusions to which this use of language leads us, 
you will probably be astonished that the fallacy of the process 
has so long escaped detection: — for instance, the earth is, we 
say, suspended in space. If the earth rests on any thing, say 
A, the question occurs immediately, what does A rest on ? For 
the principle which furnishes the earth with a support, forces 
us to find something on which the support may rest. Hence, 
if we adopt the Indian tradition that the world rests on an 
elephant, and the elephant on a tortoise, we must still find 
something for the tortoise to rest on ; and so in infinitum. But 
this leads to no end, and an end must be found, or no use exists 
in predicating any supporter ; therefore, we discard both Atlas 
and the elephant, and say, the earth is suspended without a 
support. 



190 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 

§ 2. — Nor can the* earth hang on any thing. A support from 
above requires a beginning as much as a support from below. 
We may suspend the earth with a chain from the sky, but what 
sustains the sky ? Another chain from another sky. But what 
sustains the latter ? A commencement must be found, and that 
can have nothing to sustain it ; hence, we find no use in predi- 
cating any sustainer, and the earth is left without support either 
from above or below. 

§ 3. — The moment a stone is unsupported, it falls. The 
necessity for a support is precisely what you will discover if 
you attempt to suspend a stone without a support ; but when 
we apply the same language to the earth, the necessity is 
merely verbal, like the infinite divisibility of matter, or the race 
of Achilles and the tortoise, or the fabrication of every thing 
out of nothing. 

§ 4. — To say that the earth is either supported or unsupported, 
is equally insignificant. 

That we must finally admit either a first support, which is 
itself unsupported, or that the earth is without any support, 
shows that we are employing language insignificantly; that we 
are wandering in fairy land. Support and unsupported are 
names of sights and feels : when we apply the words where 
the sights and feels are undiscoverable, the words lose their 
significancy : divested of their conventional character, they 
become again unmeaning sounds. 

§ 5. — The reason which renders the word shape significant 
when applied to a table, shows that the word is insignificant 
when applied to the earth as a whole. 

Why must the earth, considered as a single mass, possess a 
shape ? Because all tangible bodies must have a shape. But 
why ? We may thrust back the question as often as we can 
find new expressions ; but when we desire a sensible reply, we 
must resort to our senses, to whose information alone the neces- 
sity refers. Shape is the name of a feel and a sight. If you 



L.ECT. XVI,] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 191 

wish to know why a table must possess a shape, try and manu- 
facture one without a shape, and you will discover the necessity. 
It will be just what you will experience. But why must the 
earth possess a shape ? Here the necessity is verbal. I can- 
not refer you to your senses, as in the case of the table, but I 
must refer you to the table, or some other tangible object ; nay, 
the reason which renders a shape indispensable to a table, is 
conclusive that it is inapplicable to the earth. Shape is indis- 
pensable to a table, because the word names a sight and a feel, 
which tables exhibit ; but it is inapplicable to the earth, (con- 
sidered as a whole,) because it names a sight and a feel that the 
earth never exhibits. 

§ 6. — The word shape, when applied to the earth, will signify 
any thing to which the word refers. 

To assert that the earth possesses a shape, is significant when 
we refer to the appearance of the moon under an eclipse, or to 
the gradual disappearance of a ship in its recession from the 
shore, or when we refer to any other sensible information; 
but the moment we desire to make the assertion signify more 
than sensible references, we desire more than language can 
accomplish. 

§ 7. — That the shape which we attribute to the earth must be 
some shape that experience has revealed to us, shows that the 
predication of any shape is significant of nothing but our 
experience. 

But if the earth possesses a shape, it must be a plane, a 
globe, a cone, an oblong, a rhombus, or a square, &c, to the 
end of our vocabulary of shapes. But why must the shape be 
one of these ? Because no other shape can be found. Why ? 
Try if you can make a shape that is not one of these, and you 
will discover. Here, again, the language evidently refers to 
our experience only. 



192 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 



§ 8. — No verbal necessity is significant of any thing but the 
sensible information to which it refers. 

But of what shape is the earth? A plane. No; the earth 
cannot be a plane, for a plane would exhibit some place (of 
land or water) where we might fall off. Why? Because 
every plane must possess a termination. But why ? You will 
discover if you attempt to construct a plane that shall be inter- 
minable. 

§ 9. — If the surface of the earth has no termination, what 
shape must the earth possess ? Round or oval. Why ? Be- 
cause to admit that no termination exists, implies that the shape 
is round or oval. But whence this implication ? Try to make 
such a surface, and the necessity of a rotundity is just what 
you will experience. Hence, when I say that a surface which 
possesses no commencement or termination must be round, the 
necessity is significant so long as it refers to an apple, or any 
thing in which the necessity is discoverable ; but when the 
proposition is applied to the earth, the necessity of a roundness 
is merely verbal. The roundness may refer to the various 
phenomena which we relate in proof of the earth's sphericity ; 
but if it refers to nothing more, it means no more. 

§ 10. — The forms of language cease from being significant 
when the phenomena to which the forms refer cease from 
being discoverable. 

If you take an artificial globe and pierce it with pins, so that 
their points shall all be directed to the centre, some heads must 
hang down diametrically opposite to the heads of some of the 
other pins. Why ? Make the experiment, and you will know. 
But to what do we advert when we say, that in some part of 
the earth the feet of the inhabitants are diametrically opposite 
to our feet ? That the pins have antipodes is a result of our 
experience ; but the necessity for antipodes to men exists in 
the forms of language only : forms that cease to be significant 
where the phenomena to which they refer cease from being 



LECT. XVI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE, 193 

discoverable. The moment we attempt' to make language 
significant of more than our senses can experience, we become 
transported into an enchanted world, where the wonders are 
more incredible than those which amuse infancy. 

§ 11. — We are correct in calling the earth a sphere, but we are 
incorrect when we deem the name an authority for attribu- 
ting to the earth sensible properties which our senses cannot 
discover. 

But are not the phenomena exhibited by the earth conclusive 
that it is globular, since you cannot produce similar appearances 
with any other shape ? Granted. The necessity of admitting 
its sphericalness refers to our operations. It is a sphere by the 
same necessity that impels a child to admit an automaton is 
animated. He never saw any thing inanimate which could 
open and close its eyes, move its feet, hands, and head ; hence 
the automaton must be animate. The child is, however, cor- 
rect, if he employs the word animate to name what he discovers 
merely ; and we are correct in calling the earth a globe, if we 
use the word to name what we discover : but the child is wrong 
when he, by virtue of the name which he has attached to the 
automaton, imputes to it a power to eat, drink, and sleep ; and 
we are equally wrong when, by virtue of the name chat we have 
given to the earth, we maintain that its inhabitants, of different 
places, must carry their heads diametrically opposite ; that no 
two lines perpendicular to the earth can be parallel, &c. 

§ 12.-— We are correct in saying that ihe arch of a circle can 
never coincide with a straight Ine ; but we are incorrect 
when we deem the assertion capable of either revealing to us 
physical facts which our senses cannot discover, or of con- 
tradicting physical facts which our senses can discover. 

Mathematicians demonstrate that a line may be divided inter* 
minably : thus,* draw a line AC, and another (BM) perpen- 

* Keith on the Globes, pp. 8, 43. 
9 




194 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE, [PART III. 

dicular to it. The latter line must be inter- j^ -q jj C 
minable in the direction toward Q. Draw 
also another line (DE) parallel to BM. 
You may now take any point (P) in the 
line BQ, and from P, as a centre, describe, 
at the distance PB, the arch Bp. In the 
same manner you may take the points O, 
N, and M, and from each, at the distance 
of B, describe the arches Bo, Bn, and Bm. Evidently the 
further the centre is taken from B, the more nearly the arches 
will approach to D ; and the line ED will be divided into parts 
that will diminish in size at every approach. But the line BM 
may be interminably extended beyond Q; therefore, the line 
ED may be interminably divided into parts whose length will 
continually diminish ; because an arch of a circle can never 
coincide with the straight line BC. 

§ 1 3. — Why can the arch of a circle never coincide with a 
straight line ? Because the terms imply that it cannot. But 
how came the terms to possess this implication ? Try to make 
an arch coincide with a straight line, and you will discover. 
The incompatibility alludes to our sensible experience only. 
After adopting the phrase, we, however, make its authority 
superiour to that of our senses ; for we can form a circle so 
large that its arch will coincide with a short straight line. 
Hence the line ED cannot be divided in infinitum except 
verbally. You will soon produce so large an arch that it will 
coincide with BD ; a*d then the further division of the line ED 
will cease from naming any thing sensible, and become division 
minus division — a sound divested of its signification. 

6 14. — The verbal process which divides ED in infinitum, 
will prove that water is not level; for if the earth is round, the 
surface of a fish-pond is the arch of a circle, and therefore 
cannot coincide with a straight line. 



LECT. XVI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 195 



§ 15.— That bodies are divisible into parts is a physical fact, 
which possesses no authority but our experience ; hence the 
fallacy of continuing the division verbally, beyond the au- 
thority of our senses, and even against their authority. 

Mr. Reid,* in speaking of the divisibility of bodies, says, 
"nothing seems more evident than that all bodies must consist 
of parts." Why ? Because the word body implies an aggre- 
gation. But whence this implication? We may, as hereto- 
fore, proceed in a round of questions without arriving at any 
result. If, however, you undertake to discover a body which 
cannot be divided, you will learn why all bodies must consist 
of parts. The necessity of parts possesses no meaning but 
our experience ; hence the absurdity of predicating the neces- 
sity, after our senses testify that no parts are discoverable. 
We may employ the proposition of Mr. Reid to prove that an 
atom is divisible in infinitum, since every division still leaves a 
body which is composed of parts ; but our language loses its 
signineancy in the process, and the parts which we are dividing 
become sounds signifying nothing. 

§ 16. — Conclusions respond, verbally to premises, as a parrot 
responds to questions which we may ask it. Whether the 
answer shall be significant or not, depends on something 
other than the parrot. 

One moon, multiplied by three, makes three moons. This is 
as true verbally as that an orange, multiplied by three, makes 
three oranges. The two cases are, however, radically different. 
The position is true in relation to oranges, because it refers to 
a sensible fact ; but it is true in relation to the moon, only 
because the words of the proposition have acquired a relative 
meaning that enables the premises to imply the conclusion. 
The conclusion responds to the premises as a parrot may be 
taught to say three when you ask him any question. Whether 
the answer shall be sensible and pertinent will depend on the 

* Essay II, on the Intellectual Powers. 



196 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART 212. 

question. He will continue to answer three whether you ask 
him how much is one apple multiplied by three, or how much 
is nothing multiplied by three. Like the above is the lan- 
guage which speaks of the divisibility of bodies. The divisi- 
bility must continue verbally ; but whether the language shall 
or not signify any thing, depends upon the subject that is to be 
divided. The division will be sensibly significant when it refers 
to an orange, but it will be insignificant when it refers to no 
sensible existence. 



§ 17. — The ultimate cogency of all reasoning refers to our 
sensible experience, 

" Why," says Locke, " does no person think of infinite white- 
ness ? Because," replies Locke, " if you take the idea of white 
which was yielded yesterday by a parcel of snow, and join it 
in your mind with the idea of whiteness that is yielded to-day 
by another parcel of snow, the two ideas embody into one, and 
the idea of whiteness is not increased." But why 1 He an- 
swers not. The answer is, however, extremely simple. Why, 
then, cannot one piece of snow be made whiter by the addition 
of another piece ? Conjoin them, and you will discover. The 
term " cannot" refers to this experiment, and not to verbal rea- 
sons. They possess neither authority nor significance, except 
as they refer to our sensible experience. 

§ 18. — "But," says Locke, "every person who possesses an 
idea of a foot, finds that he can repeat the idea ; and joining it 
to the former, make the idea of two feet, and so on without 
ever arriving at an end of his increase, whether the idea so 
enlarged be a foot or a mile, or the diameter of the earth, or 
the orbis magnus." 

§ 19. — I ask, however, what he enlarges? While he speaks 
of joining one foot to another, he speaks significantly; but 
when he talks of doubling the diameter of the earth, the pro- 
cess becomes verbal, and the necessity which compels us to 
admit the enlargement exists in the forms of language only : — 
forms that owe their significance to sensible existences, and 



LECT. XVI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 197 

become insignificant the moment they are applied where no 
corresponding existences are discoverable. 

§ 20. — In Gill's Body of Divinity is the following proposi- 
tion: "Though angels possess no bodies, and so are not in 
place circumspectively ; yet, as they are creatures, they must 
possess a somewhere in which they are definitively." 

Why ? If you attempt to dispose of this book so that it 
shall exist, and still possess no location, you will discover the 
impracticability. But when the same impracticability is predi- 
cated of angels, it exists only in the forms of language ; forms 
which possess no more substantiality, when the sensible phe- 
nomena to which they allude are subtracted, than the muster- 
rolls of an army, when the soldiers are all deserted. 

§ 21. — The writer proceeds with his verbal discoveries: 
"where existed a place for angels before heaven and earth 
were made? Nowhere." Why? Because we are referring 
to our sensible experience. The writer, however, thinks he is 
proving that the heavens or the earth must have been created 
before angels. Yet even this obvious consequence of his pre- 
mises is authoritative only because it refers to our operations : 
thus, you cannot mark with chalk till you have something on 
which to inscribe the mark. Why? Try, and you will find. 
Our senses affix to the inability a signification ; but when we 
apply the language to angels, the inability is verbal only. 

§ 22. — Locke says, " number applies to men, angels, actions, 
thoughts, and every thing imaginable." If any proposition is 
inherently significant, this of Locke must be the one. Yet 
even this is indebted for its significance to our operations and 
experience. Why must apples be either one or more ? Try 
to prevent the necessity, and you will discover. The necessity 
depends not on the structure of language, but on our experience. 
But why must angels be either one or more ? The necessity 
here is merely verbal. Number may be applicable to angels by 
virtue of the authority of revelation, but not by virtue of our 
logick. Number is a name given by us to certain sights and 



198 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 

feels, &c ; where these exist not, number is a word divested of 
its signification. 

§ 23. — I have now shown, that when language forces us to 
admit that apples must be either one or more, the necessity of 
admitting the conclusion is founded on our experience. I have 
also shown that when propositions have thus obtained an au- 
thoritative character, we apply them where no corresponding 
experience exists : as that angels must be either one or more. 
In such applications, the necessity of admitting the conclusion 
is merely verbal, and therefore fallacious. 

§ 24. — The solicitude which philosophical writers usually evince 
for the establishment of names and definitions, arises from 
the verbal deductions which they intend to draw from the 
names. 

Examples of the foregoing fallacies might be further accu- 
mulated without difficulty, but I have probably stated a suffi- 
cient number and variety to show that the errour enters deeply 
into all our learning. We shall now be able to discover a rea- 
son for the solicitude evinced often about names and definitions. 
For instance, if a mathematician wishes to demonstrate that the 
surface of a fish-pond is not level, the earth must be denomi- 
nated a sphere, and the sphere be properly defined ; after this 
preliminary, the fish-pond will constitute a part of the circum- 
ference of a sphere, and the surface of the pond cannot be a 
straight line. The further consideration of this solicitude of 
abstruse writers is important to the view which I wish to 
present of language, and it constitutes the theme of our next 
lecture. 



LECT. XVII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 199 



LECTURE XVII. 

PHILOSOPHICAL SPECULATIONS ARE OFTEN NOTHING BUT VERBAL 
DEDUCTIONS FROM NAMES AND DEFINITIONS. 

§ 1. — What we have experienced in an orange, we deem pre- 
dicable of every thing that is called an orange ; without 
reflecting that every word possesses as many meanings as it 
possesses applications to different objects. 

Theorists are solicitous about names and definitions, because 
speculations are often verbal deductions from such names : for 
instance, if you wish to prove that the surface of a pond is not 
level, you can accomplish it verbally by premising that the earth 
is a sphere, and the pond a part of the circumference.* 

4 2, — Words possess as many significations as they possess 
applications to different phenomena ; consequently, though the 
assertion is true when applied to an artificial sphere, that no 
part of its circumference is level ; yet the assertion is sophis- 
tical when the word sphere is applied to the earth, because 
sphere possesses then a different signification. 

§ 3. — What we infer from given facts is not identical loith 
what we discover by our senses. 

I lately asked a friend what he meant by saying the earth 
was round. He said it was round like any other round body. 
I desired an example. He pointed to an artificial globe. 
" But," said I, " does the earth present ' the same sight as the 
globe, or the same feel?" "Neither: — but when a fly walks 

* My illustrations may be defective and otherwise inaccurate ; but, if they 
enable the reader to ascertain the principles which I seek to illustrate, my object 
will be attained. 



200 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 

over the globe, he produces an appearance similar to what a 
receding ship exhibits to spectators on the shore. Again, when 
a ship sails in a continued course westwardly, it returns to the 
country whence it originally departed: as a fly returns when 
he walks on an artificial globe. Besides, the shadow of an 
artificial globe resembles the appearance which is exhibited on 
the moon when eclipsed: an appearance which astronomers 
say is the shadow of the earth. 

§ 4. — The word sphere, therefore, when applied to the earth, 
is not the name of a sight and feel, (as it is when applied to an 
artificial globe,) but the name of the above and some other 
phenomena. To prove by argument that an artificial globe is 
spherical, would-be idle. The word names what we see and 
feel in the artificial globe. But the earth has been repeatedly 
subjected to experiments, for the procurement of data from 
which its shape might be inferred ; and the word sphere, when 
applied to the earth, is a name of these data only. 

§ 5. — Phraseology is not important while we employ it {say 
the word Ccesar) to designate any thing ; but phraseology 
is very important when we infer from the word Ccesar that 
an individual must be a Roman Emperor. 

Whether the earth be named a sphere or a plane is of little 
consequence, so long as we use the name to only designate 
certain data ; but the name becomes essential, if we employ it 
to determine whether the surface of a pond is level, or to deter- 
mine whether two perpendicular poles that stand before me are 
parallel. If I use the word sphere, the two poles are not 
parallel, maugre all that seeing and feeling can testify to the 
contrary ; because you can mathematically demonstrate that no 
two lines perpendicular to the surface of a sphere can be 
parallel. 

§ 6. — If I admit that my hand touches fire, you may deduce 
therefrom that my hand will be burnt. The conclusion seems 
inevitable. But you ought to know first whether I apply the 
word fire to what you have always found productive of such a 



LECT. XVII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 201 

result. Perhaps I hold in my hand paper on which the word 
fire is written. This, however, you would denounce as a quib- 
ble. It is a quibble ; and the above, together with a vast many 
philosophical conclusions, are produced by a process similar in 
character to the quibble, though not so obvious to detection. 

§ 7. — The phenomena exhibited by the heavenly bodies are 
equally apparent to all men ; and we may call them the motion 
of the heavenly bodies around the earth, or the motion of the 
earth around its own axis, and around the sun. The choice of 
phraseology is unimportant, so long as we employ the words to 
only designate phenomena which our senses discover : but 
when we employ the words to make discoveries beyond our 
senses, the phraseology is very important. By adopting the 
latter phraseology, we make all mankind travel at a giddy velo- 
city of more than a thousand miles a minute in one direction, 
and about a thousand miles an hour in another direction. By 
adopting the first phraseology, we escape from disturbing the 
quiescence of the earth; but we unmercifully cause the sun 
and stars to travel with a rotation of about twenty-five thousand 
miles every minute. 

§ 8. — Again : if, with Newton, we call the sun a body of fire, 
the language is harmless, so long as we use it to merely desig- 
nate the phenomena which the sun exhibits, or to designate any 
thing ; but if we intend to deduce consequences from the word 
fire, the phraseology is essential : thus, as the planet Saturn is 
ten times further from the sun than our earth, and as fire dis- 
penses heat and illumination in a degree which distance dimin- 
ishes in a ratio inverse the square of the distance, we enjoy a 
hundred times more light and heat than Saturn. This piteous 
conclusion is accordingly predicated of Saturn. The poor 
inhabitants of that planet are, however, not permitted to exist 
with these privations only, but more adventurous speculators 
urge the deductive process further, and prove that water exists 
among them in solidity only, and consequently they know not 
the luxury of fish. Humanity must rejoice that these distress- 
ful consequences are avoidable, by the simple contrivance of a 
late philanthropist, who has extinguished the solar fire, and 

26 



202 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE, [PART III. 

converted the sun into a radiating fluid, which becomes hot 
only when it falls on solid bodies : as water evolves heat when 
thrown on unslacked lime. We need, therefore, no longer 
wonder why comets are not vitrified. Mercury is made salu- 
brious, and even Herschel a pleasant retreat. 

§ 9. — Again : the phenomena exhibited by the barometer and 
air-pump were formerly designated nature's horrour of a vacuum. 
Latterly we call them atmospherical pressure. Which of the 
two expressions we adopt is immaterial, so long as we intend 
to only designate the phenomena ; but the expression becomes 
important when we design to make discoveries with it beyond 
the reach of our senses : thus, if a column of water ascends in a 
vacuum by reason of atmospherical pressure, we can prove that 
every man sustains a pressure of fourteen tons. This immense 
burden was first imposed on us about two centuries ago, and it 
may now be removed if we return to the old phraseology of 
nature's horrour of a vacuum. However, let us continue the 
burden, (as we carry it conveniently,) and the new theory 
accords with more phenomena than the discarded theory. 

§ 10. — We should discriminate between theoretical agents and 
sensible agents. A sensible agent is something ivhich our 
senses discover ; hut a theoretical agent is something ivhich 
is only supposed to exist. 

Theories are beneficial to science; but when we say that 
water ascends in a vacuum by means of the pressure of the 
atmosphere, we should discriminate the theoretical pressure 
from the feel to which the word pressure is ordinarily applied. 
Pressure, like every other word, possesses no invariable sig- 
nification, nor any inherent signification. Its signification is 
governed by the existence to which we attach it. When it 
refers to the effort of my hand against this table, it names a 
feel ; and when applied to the ascent of water in a vacuum, it 
names the ascent. If we suppose it names also some insensi- 
ble operation of the air on the water, this is merely our theory, 
which signifies nothing ; or rather it signifies all to which we 
refer in proof of the pressure. 



LECT. XVII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 203 

§11 . — If we keep in view this distinction, between theoret- 
ical agents and the realities of nature, we shall at once discover 
the absurdity of continuing the employment of theoretical agents 
beyond the uses which they subserve to science. If the attri- 
bution of a pressure to air enables us to methodise numerous 
phenomena which are exhibited by the air-pump and barometer, 
&c, the attribution is valuable ; but we should not continue the 
verbal machinery beyond this utility, and much less should we 
deduce therefrom that every man sustains a pressure of four- 
teen tons; — a conclusion which I believe is not subservient 
to any use, and is therefore only an evidence that the persons 
who make the deduction are ignorant of the true nature of 
language. 

§ 12. — Theoretical agents are of marl's fabrication, and par- 
take of the mutability of their creator. 

That we may better understand these verbal agents, I will in 
our next lecture examine the principle which governs us in the 
selection of them. They are creatures of our own fabrication, 
as their mutability evinces. At one time we prop up the 
heavens with the shoulders of Atlas, or support the earth on 
the back of a tortoise ; at another we remove both the props 
and support, and sustain the earth by attraction and propulsion„ 
The character of these instruments is alike, though they vary 
in usefulness. The shoulder of Atlas would be preferable to 
the attraction and propulsion of Newton, if it would apply 
consistently to a greater number of sensible revelations, or 
subserve a greater number of useful purposes. 

§ 13. — When we employ language for the purpose of deducing 
consequences from names, a change of phraseology is pro- 
ductive of a new system of philosophy. 

Dugald Stewart says, " the assertion of Berkeley, that exten- 
sion and figure possess merely an ideal existence, tends to 
unhinge the whole frame of the human understanding, by 
shaking our confidence in those principles of belief which form 
an essential part of its constitution." 



204 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 

§ 14. — What serious consequences from the use of a new 
phrase ! But, if we consider- the language of Berkeley as 
merely a designation of sensible information, his phraseology 
will be unimportant. We may call extension and figure either 
ideal existences, or material existences, and our language will 
mean — What? Just what you see and feel. If, however, we 
use language for the purpose of deducing consequences from 
names, the phraseology is important; but the importance is 
founded in ignorance of the nature of language. 

§ 15. — Again: Mr. Stewart says, "In consequence of the 
writings of Reid and a few others, the word idea itself is uni- 
versally regarded as a suspicious and dangerous term ; and it 
has already lost its technical or Cartesian meaning, by being 
identified as a synonyme with the more popular word notion." 

§ 16. — Here philosophy is improved by simply substituting 
the word notion for the word idea. But why ? Because the 
verbal consequences which we deduce from the word idea can- 
not be deduced from the word notion. The change of phrase- 
ology is an improvement, because we make an improper use of 
language. 

§ 17. — The choice of phraseology is conventional, and subject 
to the judgment and caprice of men ; but the realities of 
creation are unaffected by our' phraseology. 

In the system of one philosopher, " ideology is stated to be a 
branch of zoology, and to have for its object an examination of 
the intellectual faculties of man and of other animals." Mr. 
Stewart is startled at this phraseology, and says — "the classi- 
fication is extraordinary, and it is obviously intended to prepare 
the way for an assumption which levels men with the brutes." 

§ 18. — A very serious effect from a cause so trivial ! If phi- 
losophers can, with a dash of their pen, level men with brutes, 
we may account as authentick history the enchantments of 
Circe. But the most which any writer can accomplish is to 
transform names. Philosophers may apply to brutes, as well 



LECT. XVII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE, 205 

as men, the phrase intellectual faculties; but the phenomena 
exhibited by men and brutes will not become identical from 
possessing the same name. Philosophers can extend to quad- 
rupeds the term man, but even this will not level men with 
brutes ; it will level the name only. The sensible realities of 
creation will continue distinct and inconvertible. 



206 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 



LECTURE XVIII. 

OF THE AGENTS WHICH WE EMPLOY IN THE CONSTRUCTION 
OF THEORIES. 

§ 1. — We can employ no theoretical agents, but such as expe- 
rience has taught us can produce effects similar to those 
which we seek to account for. In a rude age, theoretical 
agents are rude ; in a refined age they are subtile. 

In a new colony, where more suitable materials are not pro- 
curable, I have seen wooden latches, wooden wash-bowls and 
drinking-cups, wooden candlesticks, and even wooden wicks. 
Theorists are similarly limited in the agents which they em- 
ploy. The philosopher of an early era must theorize with the 
gross agents which surround him. He supports the earth on 
the back of an elephant, and the elephant on a tortoise. But 
why not on a butterfly ? Because he refers to his experience 
of the strength of an elephant and the endurance of a tortoise. 
If he finds the channel of a vanished river, he ascribes the 
disappearance to a mammoth, which, descending from the hills, 
drained the river at a draught. His deities war against evil 
spirits with bows and arrows ; and the pleasures of a future 
world are hunting, where game is exhaustless, and fishing, 
where tempests are excluded. 

§ 2. — We smile at theories in which the agents are so rude ; 
and from the phenomena that industry has accumulated for us, 
we select instruments more subtile. We support the earth by 
a projection or push, which the earth received at its creation, 
and by an attraction or pull that is exerted by the sun. But 
why must the motion have been produced by a push ? Be- 
cause we refer to our operations. Try if you can protrude a 
billiard ball without some impulse. But why must the earth 



1ECT. XVIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 207 

• 

feel an attraction or pull? Because a push could move the 
earth in a straight line only, and not drive it round the sun. 
"Why ? Strike a billiard ball, and you will discover. You can 
iind a reason in no way but in that or similar experiments. 

$ 3. — Some of the ancient heathen philosophers introduced 
men into the world by the following process :* " Where the 
country was suitable, wombs grew out of the earth, fixed to it 
by roots." But why fixed to the ground? Why affixed by 
roots ? and why wombs ? The whole process shows, and the 
instruments show grossly, that we construct theories with the 
materials which our operations dictate. 

$ 4. — In Brown's Philosophy! I find the following : — "The 
addition of a new sense might probably communicate, in a few 
hours, more knowledge of matter than is ever to repay the 
physical labours of man ; disclosing, at perhaps a glance, the 
slow revelations of nature, that are singly, and at great inter- 
vals, to immortalize future sages." 

§ 5. — Why must the instruction be conveyed by a new 
sense ? Because we know of no other agent that can effect 
the object. The information, too, is to be acquired at a glance, 
Why at a glance ? Because we know of no means by which 
any sense can yield instruction but by a glance, a touch, a 
smell, a taste, or a sound : therefore we must select from these 
the manner in which the new sense is to operate. 

§ 6. — Every discovery in the arts furnishes us with new theo- 
retical agents. 

Formerly earthquakes were caused by the struggles of giants, 
w T hom Jupiter had confined beneath huge mountains. After 
Jupiter's dethronement, earthquakes were produced by subter- 
raneous fires, which, confined within vast caverns, burst into 
lightning and rent the caverns. On the invention of gunpow- 
der, theorists new-modelled their machinery. KeithJ says, 

+ Wollaston's Religion of Nature, 158.— Note H. \ Lecture V. 

1 On the Globes P. 



208 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART UK 

" Earthquakes are caused by nitrous and sulphureous vapours 
enclosed in the earth, and accidentally ignited where there is 



§ 7. — Here, however, is a difficulty : how is this internal and 
self-elaborated gunpowder ignited ? Mr. Keith relates the pro- 
cess : " the vapours may take fire by fermentation, or by the 
accidental fall and collisions of rocks and stones in hollow 
places of the earth." But why must fermentation or the colli- 
sion of rocks be the agent to ignite the vapour ? Because the 
theorists know of none more suitable : a simple but an efficient 
reason. 

§ 8. — Since the potency has been discovered of steam, phi- 
losophers have acquired an agent which will supercede every 
other in the production of earthquakes. The new process is 
thus related in Gregory's Dictionary of Arts and Sciences : — 
" The sudden explosion that occurs from volcanoes depends on 
the accumulation of a quantity of water which enters through 
some fissure connected with the sea. If the water is sufficient, 
it will extinguish the volcano ; if not, it will be converted into 
steam, the expansive force of which exceeds the force of gun- 
powder." 

§ 9. — How easily we convey water into the depths of the 
earth ! The sea is an exhaustless reservoir, and a fissure can 
be made by pronouncing the word. But why must a fissure 
exist ? Because it is the only invention by which you can con- 
vey water into the depths of the earth. The process alludes 
wholly to our operations. 

§ 10. — Elasticity was anciently explained by saying that elas- 
tick bodies are composed of particles which are coiled up like 
watch springs. Magnetism furnished philosophers with a new 
agent. The watch springs were dismissed, and every particle 
of elastick bodies was surrounded by a repulsive power. To 
trace how theories have been successively modified as discover- 
ies have furnished new agents, would be instructive. Magnet- 
ism and electricity have, however, been more fruitful than othe*. 



LECT. XVIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 209 

discoveries in the supply of theoretical agents. The alternation 
of summer and winter, of day and night, of the tides, and of a 
list of events, from the fall of a sparrow to the projection of a 
bomb, are effected by magnetick and electrical agents. Mag- 
netism and electricity furnish us with agents, whose subtility 
answers the exigency of our notions better than any other 
agents. Even acids, which long produced their pungency by 
puncturing our tongues with the sharp angles that mechanical 
philosophers gave to the insensible particles of every acid, now 
borrow their potency from the phenomena of magnetism. 

§ 11. — All the words and concomitants of a theory refer to our 
sensible experience for their significance ; hence the fallacy 
of the language when the sensible existences are not dis- 
coverable. 

Odours become perceptible by infinitely small corpuscles that 
are wafted through the air, and strike our olfactory nerves. 
Why must the corpuscles be wafted ? Because that is a con- 
venient means of bringing them. Can you convey to me yon- 
der feather unless you strike, carry, or blow it ? If the odorous 
corpuscle is either struck or carried, an agent must be provided 
to strike or carry it ; but wafting requires the air only, and this 
is constantly around us. 

§ 12.-— "We know," says Mr. Keith, "that the heat of the 
sun draws vast quantities of vapours from the sea." Why is 
drawing the agent which the sun employs to raise the vapour ? 
Because we know of no better agent. The dictionary of any 
language contains all the agents which can be predicated by the 
persons who speak the language. That the vapour cannot be 
pulled up we know from our experience. The sun may suck 
or draw it up, for we can also. 

§ 13. — Doctor Halley imagines, that the saltness of the sea 
proceeds from salts which rivers convey to it from the earth. 
Other persons maintain that the taste is produced by a great 
number of salt rocks at the bottom of the sea. Why must salt 
be the agent? Because you cannot give water a similar taste 

27 



210 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III. 

without the agency of salt. Chymists may discover some other 
process by which a salt flavour may be communicated, and then 
we shall be able to afford the sea a different agent : why the 
salt has not been elaborated already in some recesses of the 
ocean, out of muriatick acid and soda, is a marvel. 

§ 14. — To say that heavy bodies fall to the earth because 
the sun shines, would not be tolerated. What connexion, we 
should exclaim, can exist between the two phenomena. For 
the same reason, we should laugh at a philosopher who might 
tell us that bodies fall because the earth attracts them, had we 
not discovered in magnets that attraction produces what resem- 
bles the fall of bodies. 

§ 15. — If a philosopher were to account for the fall of bodies 
by saying that matter possesses an inherent love of matter, we 
might estimate this a rational exposition. We experience that 
love produces a desire of contaction, to which the fall of bodies 
is sufficiently congruous. I wrote thus far without recollecting 
that love has been an agent in theories. Nitrick acid and cop- 
per combined, because they had a strong affinity for each other. 
The acid would leave the copper and unite with iron, because 
its love for iron is stronger than for copper. A similar princi- 
ple caused the ancient theory of nature's abhorrence of vacuity. 

§ 16. — That the heat of the sun proceeds from combustion, 
will be the only theory among men who are unacquainted with 
any other cause of heat ; but when we find that chymical com- 
binations, &c, evolve heat, we are possessed of a new agent ; 
and can say, that the warmth experienced from the sun pro- 
ceeds from a combination of its beams with the body on which 
they fall : the warmth is the calorick which escapes from the 
sunbeams, as they pass from a fluid state to a fixed. 

§ 17. — When a theory, in some of its results, conflicts with 
our experience, the theory is usually abandoned. 

Combustion itself was formerly attributed to the agency of 
phlogiston, a very subtile and insensible agent. Phlogiston was 



LECT. XVIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 211 

so light, that some bodies became heavier by losing it. When 
a theory is driven to conclusions so repugnant to our operations, 
its dissolution is near; — accordingly, phlogiston had to relink 
quish its agency in combustion to a more accommodating 
instrument. 

§ 18. — Combustion is now performed by means of oxygen. 
When combustible bodies arrive at a certain temperature, 
oxygen loves to unite with them ; and as it passes from the 
form of air to a fixed state, it liberates the calorick which dis- 
tended it, and for which it no longer possesses any use. The 
deserted calorick scatters indignantly, and is the heat which 
we experience. 

§ 19. — Every theory and theoretical agent are significant of 
the sensible information to which they refer. 

This theory is congruous to a great number of phenomena, 
yet, like every other theory, it is significant of nothing but the 
data which are adduced in proof of the theory : as, for instance, 
combustibles will not burn without oxygen; phosphorus will 
acquire, by combustion, as much weight as is lost by the air 
in which the phosphorus is burnt, and the remaining air will be 
devoid of oxygen, &c. 

§ 20. — Why, however, must the heat which ensues in com- 
bustion have existed in the oxygen ? Because no other source 
accords so well with our experience. This is a good reason 
while it lasts, but a similar reason may induce us to-morrow to 
attribute the heat to another cause. The language is truly signi- 
ficant of the sensible facts only to which it refers ; and with this 
limitation we can never err, adopt what phraseology we please. 

§ 21.— Again: why must the oxygen unite with the body 
which is consumed ? Because we can account in no other way 
so well for the disappearance of the oxygen, &c. The reason 
is good, and the disappearance of the oxygen will continue 
to be thus accounted for, till experience may furnish us with a 
more congruous process. 



212 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART III, 

§ 22. — Beattie, in his Essay on Language, says — " Some of 
the brute creation alter their voices when the weather is about 
to change. Their bodies are affected by atmospherical altera- 
tions which we cannot perceive ; and they are expressing pleas- 
ant or painful sensations, even as an infant when it smiles or 



! § 23. — But why make the alterations of the weather a theo- 
retical agent to affect the sensations of brutes ? Because we 
experience such results in ourselves : — the weather affects our 
corns, old wounds, fractures, &c. 

§ 24. — Theories enable us to connect with pleasing illusions 
what would be otherwise disconnected facts. 

Theories are useful. We are acquainted with no mode of 
creating a science, but by embodying facts in some theory. 
Besides, when certain conclusions are deducible from a theory, 
we resort to experiments for their realization, and thus many 
new facts are occasionally developed. 

§ 25. — Theories enable us also to associate our knowledge 
with pleasing illusions. If astronomers had not applied the 
terms mountains, chasms, lakes, seas, and volcanoes, to the 
appearances of the moon, they would not have gazed so intently 
at that luminary. Newton would probably not have so ardently 
devoted his great faculties to astronomy had he supposed that 
he was establishing nothing but an ingenious fiction, significant 
of the phenomena only that he could discern. He estimated 
these as the most unimportant part of his knowledge; — the 
mere loop-holes by which he was enabled to pry behind the 
curtain of nature; — a curtain erected to resist the gaze of 
vulgar eyes, but pervious to his acute conjectures.* 

* We are accustomed to say that Newton discovered the laws which regulate 
the motions of the heavenly bodies. We should speak more appropriately were 
we to say that he discovered laws which coincide with the motions, &c, of the 
heavenly bodies. 



LECT. XVIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 213 



§ 26. — Theories are human contrivances by which we artifi- 
cially associate sensible realities, and by familiar processes, 
account for their production. 

But if theories are merely human contrivances, by which we 
artificially associate sensible realities, and artificially account 
by familiar processes for their production, what can we know 
more than the information which our senses and internal expe- 
rience reveal ? This question is important. It seems also to 
be misunderstood by every description of persons. The wise 
and the simple, the learned and the ignorant, propound ques- 
tions without knowing what will constitute a solution ; and 
investigate nature without knowing when to be satisfied. I 
shall undertake to elucidate these points, and I have entered on 
no topick more practically important. 



PART FOURTH. 



OF LANGUAGE WITH REFERENCE TO SOME OF THE USES TO 
WHICH WE APPLY IT. 



LECT. XIX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 217 



LECTURE XIX. 

EVERY QUESTION WHICH RELATES TO THE EXTERNAL UNIVERSE 
IS INSIGNIFICANT, IF IT CANNOT BE ANSWERED BY OUR 

SENSES. 

§ 1. — Questions have interrogated every thing but themselves. 

No subject is less understood than questions. They constitute 
a field which is not ungleaned merely, but unreaped. Every 
thing pertaining to them is unmarked by the feet of curiosity, 
and untrained by the hand of cultivation. As the eye sees 
every thing but itself, so questions have interrogated every 
thing but themselves. To supply this deficiency is the object 
of the present discourse. 

§ 2. — All questions which relate to the external universe must 
be directed to our senses. 

What is the shape of a taste, or the colour of a sound ? The 
questions are insignificant. They inquire after no information 
of our senses. Every interrogation which possesses a similar 
defect, is equally trifling, provided the question relates to the 
external universe : — our senses being the only means which 
we possess of knowing the external universe. 

§ 3. — A question which the senses cannot answer is 
insignificant. 

Should a spark of fire fall amid a room full of gunpowder, 
what effect will occur? Should a spark of fire fall amid the 
satellites of Jupiter, what effect will occur ? These questions 
are gramatically alike, yet the last is insignificant, while the 
first is significant. The significant question inquires after 

10 



218 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE, [PART IV. 

information which my senses can furnish, while the insignifi- 
cant question inquires after no information which the senses 
can furnish. What if the sun should wander from the zodiac ? 
This question was propounded once in ridicule by Sterne. 
Every person knows it to be insignificant, though perhaps few 
persons can tell what constitutes the insignificance. 
* - 

§ 4. — Our senses alone can answer questions. Words can 
only refer us to what our senses reveal. 

When the Lord answered from the flaming bush the inquiry 
of Moses, by saying " I am that I am," the answer was won- 
derfully expressive of the nature of language, which can in no 
instance accomplish more than it effected in that. We may 
say to life, What art thou ? and to death, What art thou ? and 
we may address a like inquiry to the sun, the earth, the sea, 
the revolution of the seasons, the alternations of day and night, 
the fluctuation of the tides, the attraction of magnetism, and the 
gravitation of stones ; but language can furnish them with no 
better answer than I am that I am. Would we learn more in 
relation to them, we must seek it from our senses. Every 
sight, sound, taste, feel, and smell, which an object exhibits 
spontaneously, or which it can by any art be made to exhibit, is 
an answer to our question; but we may as well attempt to 
enlarge our family by multiplying the names of our children, as 
increase our knowledge of an external existence by multiplying 
words upon it. What our senses discover we may relate, and 
in such language as we deem most appropriate ; but the mo- 
ment we attempt to make our answers more comprehensive, 
we are employing language for purposes that are beyond its 
capacity. We may fabricate theories and definitions, but we 
cannot enlarge our knowledge of the external universe by an 
arrangement of words, any more than a conjurer can look into 
futurity by arranging the figures of a pack of cards. 



LECT. XIX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE, 219 



§ 5. — When toe attempt to Use language for some other pur* 
pose than to refer to our sensible experience, we are like a 
blind man speaking of colours. 

How does a magnet attract iron ? Exhibit the magnet and 
the iron, and let the querist see the operation ; he can receive 
no reply which will be so authoritative. But he sees the fact 
only, and not the cause. Let him examine further^ and see 
every thing that is visible ; touch every thing that is tangible , 
and employ similarly all his senses ; if he wants to find what 
his senses cannot discover, his search is not only fruitless, but 
it is unmeaning. When he would speak of the object of such 
a search, language itself fails him. His sentences may be 
grammatical, but they will possess no sensible signification. 
When a blind man talks of colours, the word is sensibly insig- 
nificant to him; and every word is equally insignificant to us 
when it refers to the external universe, and attempts to speak 
of what our senses cannot discover. 

§ 6. — As colours can depict sights only, so words can converse 
of nothing external which is not sight, sound, taste, feel, or 
smell. 

Nero threatened to decapitate a painter unless he should pro- 
duce three pictures on subjects that should be given to him. 
The first was the emperor's favourite horse. The painter 
finished the likeness, and' - it was satisfactory. He was then 
required to paint the emperor, and in this he also succeeded ; 
but the last requirement was that he should paint the sound 
of the emperor's flute. The requirement was not within the 
power of colours, and the painter was beheaded, 

§ 7. — That colours are unable to depict sounds, tastes, and 
smells, we are aware ; but we know not that words are unable 
to discourse of any thing external which is not a sight, sound, 
taste, feel, or smell. The inability in both cases possesses the 
same foundation in nature. Colours are sights ; hence, no 
combination of them can represent what is not visible. In the 



220 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV, 

same way, words, which relate to the external universe, are in 
effect sights, sounds, tastes, feels, and smells ; hence, no com- 
bination of them can discourse of what is not sight, sound, 
taste, feel, or smell. 



§ -8. — An external thing that is not sensible, is as incongruous 
a thing as an insensible elephant. 

Even to speak of any thing external which my senses cannot 
discover, is a contradiction ; because the word thing, when it 
refers to the external universe, signifies some revelation of my 
senses. Endeavour to teach a Frenchman the meaning of the 
word thing. If you cannot speak French, nor he English, no 
ingenuity of yours, and no aptness of his, can enable you to 
convey to him a meaning of the word thing, unless you make 
him understand that it signifies some sight, sound, taste, feel, 
or smell, which you may present to his senses. An external 
thing which none of our senses can discover, is a word divested 
of signification. We may as well talk of an insensible horse, 
as an insensible external thing : — both words admit equally the 
existence of a sensible revelation. 

§ 9. — The same difficulty occurs, employ what word you 
will in the place of thing. You cannot more readily teach the 
Frenchman a meaning of the word existence, than of the word 
thing. You must appeal to his senses for the meaning of exist- 
ence, precisely as you must for the meaning of the word horse 
or elephant ; hence, an insensible external existence is a contra- 
diction ; for the word external existence admits the cognizance 
of your senses, as much as the word white or horse. 

§ 10. — Every question which relates to the external universe 
implies (as essential to its signification) that it seeks some 
sensible information. 

What is lightning ? The phrase is elliptical. It means what 
thing is lightning ; and we have already shown that the word 
thing signifies a sensible existence ; hence, the question truly 
inquires after the information of the senses, and can be an- 



&ECT. XIX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 221 

swered by their information only. The same result follows if 
you supply the ellipsis with the word existence, or with what- 
ever other word you may substitute as the substantive of the 
pronoun what. 

§ 11. — When we attempt to forsake sensible information, it is 
still present with us. 

We are situated in relation to the senses, like St. Paul in 
relation to evil. He says, " when I attempt to do good, evil is 
present with me;" — so, when we attempt to forsake sensible 
information, it is still present with us. Apple is the name of 
something which can be seen, felt, and tasted. The word ad- 
mits these qualities ; hence, to speak of an insensible apple is 
to contradict what must be admitted, to make the word signifi- 
cant. A like difficulty occurs with every word. External 
existence names some thing that can be seen, felt, tasted, heard, 
or smelled ; hence, to speak of an insensible external existence 
is to contradict the admission which gives signification to the 
phrase. We may, with no greater impropriety, speak of an 
invisible brilliancy, an inaudible noise, or any other contradic- 
tion. Boys in the country wear, attached to their shirts, a 
false collar, which is called a dickey. This is usually much 
starched, and sometimes surrounds the boy's neck, so as to 
bury his chin and mouth. A boy who was thus annoyed, was 
seen by his schoolmaster to jump repeatedly ; and on being 
asked why he jumped, said he was attempting to spit over his 
dickey. The boy's attempts are analogous to ours when we 
endeavour to exalt our meaning beyond our senses. The sen- 
sible meaning of words cannot be detached in our flights, any 
more than the boy could jump without carrying his dickey 
upwards with him. 

§ 12.— Diminution is one of the m.eans by which we attempt to 
conceal the absurdity of employing the names of sensible 
existences, where the existences are not discoverable. 

The original of all matter is, we are told, atoms, which are 
so small that millions of them must be aggregated before the 



222 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV, 

mass becomes sensible. Still, these little insensible primitives 
are atoms. Were we told that they are gwho, we should scorn 
the unmeaning affirmation. Atoms seems intelligible, though 
we forget that it is applied where our senses can discover none 
of the sensible information which gives the word its significa- 
tion ; hence, that the word, when thus used, possesses no more 
sensible signification than the word gwho. 

§ 13. — Subtiiization is another means by which we attempt to 
conceal the fallacy of employing the names of sensible ex- 
istences, where the existences are not discoverable by our 
senses. 

Attraction is attenuated as we discover it in magnetick and 
electrick experiments ; but when we wish to predicate attrac- 
tion where our senses cannot discover it, we are forced to sub- 
tiliate it verbally, till it becomes too subtile for our senses. In 
this condition, it is the most potent agent that is employed in 
verbal philosophy. It not only holds together the insensible 
atoms which constitute a diamond, but it upholds the earth, 
sun, and planets. The only difficulty is, that when we sub- 
tract from the word attraction its sensible qualities, we leave an 
empty sound: — as empty as the word apple when we abstract 
from that word its sensible references. 

§ 14. — Insensibleness is as much a negation of external exist- 
ence, as death is a negation of life, or absence a negation 
of presence. 

Insensible evaporation, insensible perspiration, insensible 
heat, &c, are agents by which also we attempt to penetrate 
beyond the sensible realities of the universe. By affixing to 
them the adjunct insensible, we endeavour to account for our 
inability to discover them by our senses ; but insensibility is as 
much a negation of all which gives signification to the words, 
as death is a negation of life. We read in the Arabian Nights 
of a facetious rich man, who tendered a sumptuous entertain- 
ment to a hungry mendicant:— "Eat, brother, of this ragout, 
and spare not this stewed lamb and pistachio nuts." To the 



LECT. XIX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 223 

poor man's senses, the table was unfurnished with viands of 
any kind ; and though his complaisance induced him for a 
period to accompany his host in the evolutions of eating, his 
stomach gave him practical admonitions of the nature of insen- 
sible ragouts. 

Evaporation, perspiration, attraction, &c, are so subtile in 
their sensible form, that we see not the inanity of depriving 
them entirely of sensible properties ; but the same principle 
which nullifies an insensible ragout, nullifies an insensible 
vapour, dec. 

§ 15. — All that Providence has placed within our power, in 
relation to the external universe, is to note ivhat our senses 
discover. 

Finally, all that Providence has placed within our power in 
relation to the external universe, is to note and record what our 
senses discover. To this end, we may compound elements and 
analyze compounds. We may examine causes and trace effects. 
While our language is confined to what our senses disclose, 
every word is significant. Within this circle, we may propose 
significant questions and receive significant answers ; but the 
moment we step beyond the circle, we can neither propound a 
significant question nor frame a significant answer. We are 
worse than blind men when they attempt to talk about colours ; 
for though their language is sensibly insignificant to themselves, 
it is significant to others; but when we attempt to discourse 
about external realities which no person's senses can discover, 
language itself fails us, and becomes insignificant. Our lan- 
guage may retain a verbal meaning, but it will lose its sensible 
meaning ; it may be significant of theories, definitions, mathe- 
matical calculations, and other verbal processes ; but it will not 
be significant of the realities of the external universe. 

§ 16. — If we examine the speculations of philosophers, we 
shall find that no truth is so little known as the above. As the 
stars appear at sunset to supply the light of the absent sun, so 
philosophy commences its revelations where our senses termi- 
nate their revelations. But here the parallel ceases. The stars 



224 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV. 

possess a little light that is inherent and independent of the 
sun ; but words possess no inherent meaning in any case, and 
no external meaning independent of the senses. 

§ 17. — Language cannot enable us to 'penetrate beyond the 
range of our senses. 

To deem ourselves shut up in the universe with no capacity 
to know or even speak any thing of it but what our senses 
reveal, seems a narrower range than we are accustomed to 
attribute to our knowledge. Still, such is our situation. Lan- 
guage cannot enable us to pass the barrier of our senses. We 
may as well attempt to construct a dwelling house which shall 
be undiscoverable by the senses, as construct a proposition 
which shall signify something of the external universe that 
cannot be discovered by the senses. The same difficulty ob- 
structs both attempts. We possess for the house no materials 
but such as are sensible ; and we possess no words for the 
proposition but such as refer for their signification to sensible 
information. 

§ 18. — I have now, I trust, shown that every question which 
relates to the external universe is insignificant if it cannot be 
answered by our senses. It is insignificant because we can 
frame no question that will not, in its terms, relate to sensible 
information; and secondly, because we possess no means of 
knowing any thing of the external universe but what our senses 
reveal. 



LECT. XX.] A. TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 225 



LECTURE XX. 

EVERY QUESTION WHICH RELATES TO WHAT IS INTERNAL OF 
MAN, IS INSIGNIFICANT IF IT CANNOT BE ANSWERED BY 
OUR CONSCIOUSNESS. 

§ 1 . — Having shown in my last discourse that every question 
which relates to the external universe is insignificant if it can- 
not be answered by our senses, I must add that every question 
which relates to the universe within ourselves, is insignificant 
if it cannot be answered by our consciousness. 

§ 2. — We cannot readily designate by words the phenomena 
ivhich constitute our internal consciousness. 

When a flash of lightning crosses the horizon, it appears as 
vividly to persons around you as to you.; hence, when you 
attach a name to it, every person knows what the name signi- 
fies. But when you become conscious of some phenomenon 
within yourself, and wish to speak of it, much difficulty occurs 
in making other persons know the phenomenon to which you 
allude. This difficulty embarrasses ail discourse which relates 
to what we experience internally. 

§ 3. — Every man recognises the items of his own conscious- 
ness, how unable soever he may be to designate them by 
words to other men. 

If you ask me to tell you how I felt at beholding the decapi- 
tation of a felon, I may be unable to give you any verbal defi- 
nition of my feeling, or any verbal description of it; still, I 
know precisely what I experienced on the occasion.* The 



* Or I knew while I was experiencing the feeling. 
29 



226 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV. 

feeling may say to me, I am that I am. You cannot transmute 
me into words. You may reflect on me, and note in relation to 
me all that you experience. You may refer to me in any words 
that you deem appropriate, but your words are not me. I am 
myself alone. Your words cannot alter me, or enlarge or 
abridge me. They are the breath of your own body. So far 
as they refer to me, you must look to me alone as the only true 
expositor of myself. 

§ 4. — Every question which relates to our internal conscious- 
ness is best answered by the mute revelations of conscious- 
ness itself. 

What constitutes personal identity? What enables you to 
know that you are the individual who, thirty years ago, arrived 
in this city? The usual answer to this question would be 
words, but the true answer is independent of all words. It is 
simply what you discover it to be. A dumb mute possesses on 
this subject all the knowledge which you possess, and usually 
in much greater clearness and purity than you possess it ; for 
with you, the answer is probably so confounded with words 
that the phenomena of nature (which constitute the real answer) 
are but little regarded. 

§ 5. — What are thoughts ? What is memory ? What is an 
idea ? What are conscience and consciousness ? They may 
severally answer, I am what I am. No answer is so good as 
this, because none is so little likely to mislead the inquirer. 
Would we know further what they are, we must resort to our 
experience, and in its mute revelations alone can we receive the 
answer. What is lightning ? Should the clouds exhibit to me 
a flash, it would constitute the best answer that the question is 
susceptible of. Precisely thus, when I ask what is memory. 
Should the recollection occur to me of a flash of lightning, the 
recollection would constitute the best answer which the question 
about memory is susceptible of. 



XECT. XX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 227 



§ 6. — In relation to the realities of nature which are not exter- 
nal of us, language possesses no signification but as it refers 
to our internal experience. 

To experience the recollection of a flash of lightning will 
tell you only what the word memory names. You may say 
that you wish to know how memory is caused, and what con- 
stitutes its nature. Recur, then, again, to your consciousness. 
Experience all which you can in relation to memory, and 
receive the experience as the only answer which the questions 
admit. If experience will not answer the questions, language 
cannot ; for language possesses no signification in the premises, 
except what it derives from its reference to your experience 

§ 7. — Questions are insignificant when they seek what con 
sciousness cannot answer. 

We can answer every question which inquires after any thing 
that we can experience, either by our senses or our conscious- 
ness ; but a question which inquires after none of these is an 
inquiry after nothing. How would memory look if we could 
see it ? How would it feel, taste, smell, or sound ? Does it 
die, or continue to live in the soul after the death of the body ? 
If it is a property of the soul, why does it decay in old men ? 
If it is a property of matter, is it confined to a particular piece ? 
Does it possess gender and number ? We may form as many 
such questions as we can form syntactical sentences ; but the 
questions are like a numerical sum whose figures refer to no- 
thing. The figures may be multiplied, divided, added, and 
subtracted, according to the rules which figures obey ; but if the 
figures possess no ulterior reference, their product will possess 
no ulterior signification. Our questions also may be subjected 
to all the rules of logick that are applicable to the words ; but 
so long as the words possess no ulterior reference, the answers 
which may be elaborated from them will possess no ulterior 
signification. 



228 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IT. 



LECTURE XXL 

INQUIRIES AFTER A THEORY WE MISTAKE FOR AN INVESTI- 
GATION OF NATURE. 

§ 1. — The words cause and effect are, like all other words, 
insignificant when they refer to nothing; and are never 
sensibly significant of any thing but the sensible particulars 
to which they refer. 

When we disengage from our grasp a stone, and see it fall to 
the earth, we inquire into the cause of its descent. The inquiry 
is proper, but we can know nothing of the external universe 
except what our senses disclose ; hence we must seek a sensi- 
ble cause. This, however, is not our practice. We invent a 
verbal cause which we confound with the sensible realities of 
the external universe. The verbal cause is created by attribu- 
ting to the stone and its descent some agent that we know to 
possess (were it present) the power to produce the descent. 
We discover in magnets a power to attract iron; hence, by 
attributing attraction to the earth, we make the descent of the 
stone congruous to our notions of causation. Nearly every 
movement of our body, and every volition of our mind, causes 
a sensible effect. We are conceived, born, and we die, by a 
sensible process of cause and effect. All our business, cares, 
and pleasures, are a combination of causes and effects. We 
need not wonder, therefore, that men are usually unconscious 
that cause and effect are only certain discoverable relations ; and 
that where the relations are undiscoverable, the words cause 
and effect can be applied with no more propriety than we can 
apply the word elephant where no quadruped is discoverable. 



1ECT. XXI,] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 229 



§ 2. — To invent a verbal cause that will make a unique opera* 
tion of nature, congruous to operations with which we are 
familiar, is mistaken for a physical discovery. 

" The little bodies which compose water are," says Locke, 
" so loose from one another, that the least force separates them. 
Nay, if we consider their perpetual motion, they possess no 
cohesion. But let a sharp cold come, and they will unite and 
not be separated without great force. He that could make 
known the cement that makes them adhere so closely, would 
discover a great secret." 

§ 3. — Nothing is easier than to discover the cement if it 
refers to any sensible information. We may examine water, 
and note all the information which it can yield our senses in its 
transformation into ice. But this was not what Locke was 
seeking. He wanted a theory that would make the transforma r 
tion of water into ice, analogous to some of our accustomed 
operations. This, however, was not seeking for any thing that 
exists in the external universe, but for a process of words. 

§4. — Verbal causes may be predicated in infinitum; hence, 
they are characteristically distinguished from the realities 
of nature. 

Admit that a philosopher shall say he has discovered the 
cement which holds frozen water in solidity. "Then," con- 
tinues Locke, "this discovery aids us very little without he 
can discover the bonds which hold together the cement." 
Grant that the philosopher shall discover these also. "This 
will not avail," says Locke, " unless he can discover the cement 
which holds together the particles of the bonds ;" and thus he 
must proceed without end : for every cement must be com- 
posed of parts which, equally with the first, will require to be 
cemented. If any person chooses to divert himself by con- 
structing such speculations, I entertain no objection ; but let us 
not confound them with the sensible realities of the external 
universe. When we seek causes, we must seek a sensible 



230 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. f PART IT, 

existence ; and where none is discoverable, we must be content 
to note the deficiency as part of our sensible knowledge. 

§ 5. — The verbal causes which a theorist adopts are usually 
selected with a reference to his own occupations. 

When the fabled inhabitants of a besieged city consulted as 
to the best means of defence, the masons recommended ram- 
parts of stone, a carpenter recommended that they should be 
made of wood, and the tanners thought leather preferable. So, 
if you examine the various theories of philosophers, you will 
generally be able to divine the science with whose phenomena 
the philosopher is familiar. If the formation of rocks is to be 
accounted for by a chemist, they are caused by a chemical pre- 
cipitation among the waters of a flood, by crystallizations, and 
by chemical combinations. If a physician becomes geologist, 
the interiour of the earth suffers convulsions ; volcanoes vomit 
up rocks, and the ocean fractures them into smaller stones. If 
such speculations can subserve any useful purpose, I would not 
reject the benefit in contempt of the machinery ; but that such 
speculations should be mistaken for the realities of nature is as 
curious an errour as human weakness ever exhibited. 

§ 6. — We must discriminate between inquiries after a theory, 
and inquiries after the realities of creation. 

To inquire sensibly into the structure of the earth is to 
record all which our senses can discover. To inquire verbally 
is to select from our experience, and apply to the earth, such 
agents as we have found competent, in other cases, to produce 
and arrange rocks, or something analogous to rocks. 

§ 7. — Natural operations lohich are peculiar, we find difficult 
to subject to a theory. 

We are perplexed when we attempt to account verbally for 
the generation of animal life, or for any other operation to 
which our sensible experience furnishes no analogous operation. 
If the embryo animal can be deemed the production of either 



LECT. XXI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 231 

an egg or a seed, we are satisfied. These are accordingly on© 
theory. Animalculse are said to be discoverable in certain 
seminal fluids ; and as we are familiar with the growth of ani- 
mals from small to large, we can easily account for the large 
if we can assume the small; hence, animalculae are another 
theory of generation. 

§ 8. — But out of what was the first material object created ? 
This is the most perplexing question that theory undertakes to 
answer. All the creative operations which we experience pro- 
ceed from some material. An animal requires an egg; a tree 
requires a seed ; but the first matter could proceed from neither 
egg nor seed ; hence, we must either admit that matter is with- 
out a beginning, or we must produce the first matter without 
egg, seed, or other material. We adopt the latter alternative. 
Matter was produced, we say, by the fiat of Deity. We know 
not how; — or, in other words, we know of no analogous pro- 
cess, and hence can make no theory.* 

§ 9.— We are satisfied with the vivification of eggs, provided 
we can discover in the animal which produces them any thing- 
analogous to sexual organs and sexual intercourse ; but some 
oviparous animals present the singularity of no sexual organs. 

* Inductive philosophy consists in inventing verbal causes for sensible opera- 
tions. Newton's laws for philosophising are properly rules for the construction of 
theories : — that is, rules for the finding of verbal causes. We think a cause must 
exist, hence we see not the absurdity of attributing verbal causes. Cause and 
effect are, however, mere words. Nothing gives them significancy but our expe- 
rience. Why, then, should not our experience be permitted to teach us that causes 
are not universal ? An uneducated Ethiopian believes fluidity to be inseparable 
from water ; but experience teaches us that the Ethiopian is mistaken. We gain 
nothing but delusion when we will not limit our knowledge by the revelations of 
nature. The relation of cause and effect is like the relation of fluidity and water. 
Both relations exist where we discover them to exist, and they exist not where we 
discover that they exist not. Air is, I believe, the only substance which presents 
to us tangibility without visibility. Had we not this example, we should deem 
visibility inseparable from tangibility. We should be correct, also, in such a belief; 
for the universality of the position would signify our experience only. But can any 
thing exist without a cause ? The question is insignificant except as it refers to 
our experience, and no answer is sensibly significant beyond what we experience. 
To reject a negative instance is as fallacious as to reject an affirmative instance. 
Our knowledge of the realities of the universe cannot be extended beyond our 
sensible experience. 



232 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV, 

Some animals, also, (oysters,) possess no power of locomotion, 
and therefore can possess no sexual intercourse. These cases 
are perplexing to our modes of theorizing; but we avoid the 
difficulty by attributing verbally to each animal a double sex, 
and thus its increase is reconciled to the exigency of our expe- 
rience in other cases. 

§ 10. — We discover that some plants blossom without pro- 
ducing fruit, and that others of the same species blossom and 
also produce fruit. We discover, also, that blossoms which 
bear fruit, will not fructify when they are secluded from the 
blossoms that bear no fruit. These facts we reconcile to our 
experience in other matters, by a theory which attributes sex to 
plants. The fructiferous blossoms are female, the barren are 
the male ; while a certain farina acts as a seminal agent. This 
is transported to the female organs by insects, or currents of 
air; and the gross machinery is completed, and fructification 
rendered satisfactorily intelligible to us. 

§11 . — A sensible cause is a sensible existence, and produces a 
sensible effect ; but in a theoretical cause, nothing is sensible 
but the effect. 

If we exhaust the air out of a tube, (an ordinary pump,) 
water will ascend thirty-four feet in the pump. Quicksilver 
will not rise higher in the pump than thirty inches. These 
facts are as interesting without a theory as with. Still we 
desire some theory that shall make the ascent analogous to 
operations with which we are familiar ; hence, we say that the 
atmosphere presses the fluid, and pushes it up the tube. If the 
push existed, it would perform the office which we assign to it ; 
therefore, we assume its existence ; but after we accumulate all 
the phenomena to which the theory is applicable, (and they are 
many,) the push is but the verbal agent, by which we make 
the phenomena conform to other processes with which we are 
familiar. A sensible pressure is something in itself. It is a 
feel ; (sometimes a sight and a feel ;) but the pressure which the 
atmosphere exerts on water and quicksilver can be neither seen 
nor felt. All we see is the ascent of the water and quicksilver* 



LECT. XXI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 233 



§ 12. — While we employ verbal causes to account for a sensi- 
ble effect, the process harmonizes with our experience ; but 
when we employ a verbal cause to produce verbal effects, the 
process leads us to manifest absurdities. The further we 
proceed in a catenation of such causes and effects, the more 
evidently ive recede from the realities of nature. 

That water will ascend in a vacuum thirty-four feet is attri- 
buted theoretically to the weight of the atmosphere. The 
assumed weight is the verbal cause, and it makes the ascent 
of the water congruous to our own manual operations, and 
hence is satisfactory to us. But we proceed further : — assum- 
ing that the verbal weight of the atmosphere is a reality of the 
external universe, we deduce from it that a man of ordinary 
dimensions sustains on his body a pressure of fourteen tons 
weight of atmosphere. Every instance in which we thus react 
on verbal causes produces a monster as astounding as the 
above. The result alone ought to teach us that the process 
is fallacious ; especially as the absurdities which the process 
creates become more glaring, if possible, the further we pro- 
ceed with it ; hence, by a tacit agreement, philosophers usually 
refrain from deducing any verbal effects from the ability of man 
to sustain a weight of fourteen tons. 

§ 13. — Inquisition concerning the realities of the external uni- 
verse is limited to the discoveries of our senses ; but verbal 
inquisition is boundless. 

I have probably adduced examples enough to show that 
before we answer any question, we must determine whether 
the answer is to be verbal or sensible. If the answer is to be 
restricted to the realities of the external universe, the answer 
will be limited by what our senses can discover, and we must 
announce their information in any words which we deem most 
likely to designate the sights, sounds, feels, tastes, and smells, 
to which we refer. But if the answer is to be a theory, we 
may descend into the centre of the earth, or ascend to the cen- 
tre of the empyrean ; we may talk of what happened before the 

30 



234 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV, 

flood, and what shall occur after the universal conflagration; 
we may with Newton crush the earth into a size which shall 
be less than a nutmeg ; or, with Descartes, dilate a wine glass 
full of air till it shall fill all space. But let no man confound 
such answers with the realities of the external universe. In- 
genious they may be, and they may refer to certain sensible 
experiments ; but beyond the sensible existences to which they 
refer, they are words ; and besides words, they are nothing. 

§ 14. — In questions , also, which relate to our internal con- 
sciousness, we must discriminate whether the answer is to he 
a theory, or the revelation of consciousness. 

All the remarks which I have made on questions that refer 
to the external universe, apply equally to questions that relate 
to the universe within ourselves. In this branch of the subject, 
an answer may either be theoretical or experimental ; and before 
we answer a question, we must ascertain the kind of answer 
which is required of us : for instance, 

" Our soul possesses the power," says Locke, " of exciting 
motion by thought ; but if we inquire how the soul produces 
such an effect, we are entirely in the dark." 

Motion is produced by thought precisely as I experience 
when I raise my hand to my head. I may find a difficulty in 
designating by words what I experience ; but my knowledge 
on the subject is complete, for I know the process itself. 
Locke, however, wanted some theory that should make the 
process analogous to some external sensible operation, and 
hence the difficulty. 

§ 15. — Theories are usually derived from our familiar physical 
operations ; hence, we cannot invent satisfactory theories for 
mental operations ; — the two departments of creation not 
being sufficiently analogous* 

When the ascent of water succeeds a vacuum, we reconcile 
the ascent to our familiar manual operations, by attributing a 

* See ante, §§ 2, 3, and 7» 



1.ECT. XXI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 235 

pressure to the surrounding atmosphere; but we possess no 
external operation that is analogous to the succession of voli- 
tion and motion ; hence, the difficulty of answering the question 
of Locke : — we possess not the means of inventing a satisfac- 
tory theory. Locke evidently attributes the difficulty to a 
mystery of nature, while it is nothing but the inapplicability to 
mental phenomena of the verbal process by which we construct 
theories : — theories are all constructed from our physical expe- 
rience, but physical experience is not congruous to mental 
operations. 

§ 16. — How does memory perform its operations? Before 
we answer the question, we should ascertain whether the an- 
swer must be a theory or a revelation of nature. If the answer 
is to be a revelation of nature, the mute developments of our 
experience yield the only correct answer. Words can refer us 
to these developments ; but the moment they attempt more 
than such a reference, we are theorizing: — that is, we are 
probably attempting to make the operations of memory analo- 
gous verbally to our manual operations. Locke somewhere 
speaks of the operations of memory under the half allegory 
and half theory of a schoolboy with a slate, writing down cer- 
tain events, and which writing eventually becomes obliterated. 
Again he speaks of memory as an agent that runs about the 
brain in search of faded impressions ; like a lackey in search 
of a mislaid umbrella. The analogies are so gross, that they 
are asserted more as an illustration of memory than as a theory ; 
but they evince the usual unacquaintance with the distinction 
which exists between an inquiry after a theory, and inquiry 
after the realities of nature. 

§ 17.— How are remote objects visible? Just as we dis- 
cover. This would be deemed a very foolish answer ; still, it 
is the best that can be given, for it refers us to the revelations 
of experience, which alone can yield us a correct answer. But 
the answer is peculiarly dissatisfactory because the question 
seeks a theory. When we are satisfied of this fact, the above 
answer is indeed improper. Lord Monboddo answers the ques- 
tion by saying that the soul leaves the body, and emanates to 



236 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV. 

the distant object. The contact which is thus verbally pro- 
duced makes vision analogous to our accustomed manual opera- 
tions, and hence supplies what we require. The reflection of 
light, and the camera obscura which is produced by a dissected 
eye, furnish us with a theory that is more congruous to our 
accustomed operations than even Lord Monboddo's ; hence, 
vision is now performed by the light which rebounds to our 
eye from visible objects, and produces on the retina a small 
miniature of the external object. When we get a distant ob- 
ject thus into the eye, we find but little difficulty in under- 
standing how (according to our own operations) an external and 
distant object becomes cognizable to our minds. 

§ 18. — Want of contact with external objects is, you per- 
ceive, the difficulty which must be obviated before seeing can 
be made congruous to our physical operations. A like diffi- 
culty pertains to hearing and smelling, and we vanquish it, as 
in. the case of seeing, by a theory which supplies the contact. 
The air constitutes a medium through which are floated theoret- 
ical atoms of odour, and theoretical appulses of sound, from the 
objects heard and smelt, to the olfactory and auditory nerves. 

§ 19. — The silent revelations of experience can alone teach us 
the realities of our mental nature. 

" Actors,* when they either laugh or weep, affect spectators 
with the sensations which the drama expresses. But by what 
mechanism do the vibrations of the actor's brain transmit them- 
selves to that of other persons ?" 

§ 20. — Is the answer to be a theory, or a revelation of 
nature? We must ascertain before we undertake to answer. 
To know how in reality an actor affects us, we must resort to 
our experience. The answer will not be words, but the phe- 
nomenon itself. If, however, we desire a theory, we must 
invent some verbal machinery that will make the operation 
congruous to our manual operations. 

* Theory of agreeable sensations, chap. ix. Anon. 



LECT. XXI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 237 

§ 2L — Though we deem any mental phenomenon inexplica- 
ble unless we can show it to be analogous to physical opera- 
tions, we deem the operations of Deity well explained when 
we can show them to be analogous to mental operations. 
" The Lord said, let there be light, and there was light." But 
how could light be produced by such a declaration ? Very 
easily : creation follows the volition of Deity, just as our limbs 
obey the volition of our minds. This theory makes the whole 
satisfactory ; hence, we may see that nothing is essential to the 
construction of a theory, but the predication verbally of some 
means which we have experienced to be capable of producing 
a result like that which we are striving to explain. But how- 
ever this may be, I hope you now perceive that we mistake 
inquiries after a theory for investigations of nature. The two 
inquiries are wholly different, and are dependent on different 
principles. By confounding the inquiries we shall gain nothing 
but delusion. By separating them, we shall at least discrimi- 
nate between the verbal ingenuity of man, and the realities of 
creation. 



238 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV 



LECTURE XXII. 

INQUIRIES AFTER THE DEFINITION OF WORDS WE MISTAKE FOR 
AN INVESTIGATION OF NATURE. 

$ 1. — We should discriminate between the verbal signification 
of a word and its sensible signification, if we would cor* 
rectly appreciate either language or the sensible universe. 

As we inquire after a theory and mistake the inquiry for an 
investigation of nature, so we inquire after the verbal significa- 
tion of words, and mistake the inquiry for an investigation of 
nature. What is a point ? A name which we have given to a 
certain sight or feel : as, for instance, what I see when I look 
at the end of a needle ; — or, what I feel when I touch the end 
of the needle. But these, say mathematicians, are not a point. 
A real point cannot be seen or felt. It possesses no length, 
breadth, nor thickness. The difference, however, between me 
and mathematicians is, that they are speaking of the verbal 
meaning of the word point, whilst I am speaking of the sensi- 
ble meaning. The two meanings are distinct, and we. must 
discriminate to which we refer if we would correctly appreciate 
either language or the sensible universe. 

§ 2.- -Nothing is more common than to confound the verbal 
meaning of a word with the sensible. 

What is a line ? Something which possesses length without 
breadth or thickness. You cannot exhibit such a line, nor can 
you feel one. Every line that you either see or feel will pos- 
sess breadth as well as length. The line which possesses 
neither breadth nor thickness is verbal, and your words consti- 
tute its verbal meaning. Let no man, when he investigates the 
verbal line, suppose that he is investigating the realities of the 



fcECT. XXII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 239 

external universe, though nothing is more common than such 
mistakes. 



$ 3. — Before we can tell what an atom is, we must know 
whether the question refers to the verbal meaning of the 
word, or the sensible. 

A sensible atom is discoverable by my senses. The word is 
properly applied to a sight and a feel, as an atom of sand ; but 
we may apply it to an odour or a sound, or any other sensible 
information to which we may deem the word appropriate. But 
a verbal atom is a quantity of words ; for instance, the follow- 
ing: — "Atoms are the primitive material particles of which all 
bodies are composed. An atom is not so small as a mathe- 
matical point, because an atom must possess length, breadth, 
and thickness, or no aggregation of atoms could produce sensi- 
ble bodies: — things without length, breadth, and thickness, 
cannot acquire length, &c, by aggregation. Atoms are, how- 
ever, so small, that a greater number of them than the sands on 
the sea shore are emitted every instant from a lighted candle. 
Those which, in the form of light, are radiated from the sun, 
fall millions of miles, and with inconceivable rapidity, yet hurt 
not the eye on which they strike, though an organ of sensation 
the most tender of any with which we are acquainted." A 
verbal atom differing thus from a sensible atom, you will per- 
ceive in all inquisition which relates to atoms, the necessity 
of understanding whether the questions refer to the verbal 
meaning of atoms, or to the sensible meaning. 

§ 4. — You find that atoms must possess length, breadth, 
and thickness, or they will be unsuited to the duty of consti- 
tuting the material universe. But now occurs a difficulty: — - 
If atoms possess length, they are divisible in infinitum ; for we 
can no more annihilate length by division, than we can create 
length by an aggregation of bodies which possess no length. 
If, therefore, every atom is divisible in infinitum, we can never 
arrive at the primitive atoms out of which bodies are formed. 
This difficulty has not been found insurmountable : we are told 



240 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV. 

that the primitive atoms are indivisible from no lack of parts, 
but from a hardness which renders them indivisible. 

$ 5. — Every word which possesses a sensible meaning pos- 
sesses also a verbal meaning. 

Let us now examine the division to which the atoms ought 
to have been subjected interminably, if Deity had not specially 
interposed an impassable hardness. What is division? The 
sensible meaning is a sight or a feel, and usually both a sight 
and a feel. The word may signify also the information of the 
other senses ; hence, we may speak of dividing a taste or a 
sound. In these cases, as in all other sensible significations 
of the word, it will mean the sensible information to which it 
refers. 

§ 6. — But this division will not answer when we undertake 
to divide interminably. We must employ a division which is 
composed of words: for instance, "to cut in two, — to make 
two of what was previously one." With this division we can 
accomplish wonders. The moment we apply it to an invisible 
atom, the atom becomes two, and we may continue the process 
interminably.* The two divisions being thus radically differ- 
ent, (the sensible division being a sensible operation, while a 
verbal division is a process of words,) nothing is more impor- 
tant, when we are required to answer any question which 
relates to division, than that we should know whether the ques- 
tion refers to the verbal meaning of the word or the sensible 



§ 7. — The external sensible universe is very different from the 
verbal universe of philosophers. 

" One grain of pure gold can be hammered so as to cover a 
surface of fifty square inches. But after the leaf is hammered 
to the extent of our ability, it still possesses an upper surface 
and an under surface, and hence possesses parts which are 

* See Lecture XVI, § 16. 



LECT. XXII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 241 

divisible, though we possess not the skill to divide them. If 
the leaf could be divided, it would again possess an under sur- 
face and an upper, and therefore could be again divided, and 
thus in infinitum, till the surface would equal not only that of 
the whole earth, but be infinitely larger." 

§ 8. — The above process is copied from Rees' Cyclopedia, 
but we can plainly perceive that the division spoken of possesses 
only ajferbal signification. If the writer, when he thus spoke 
of dividing the leaf in infinitum, had asked himself whether he 
was referring to the sensible meaning of the word division, or 
the verbal meaning, he could not have failed from discovering 
the true character of his speculation. It is verbal, and the 
external universe is not concluded by it or concerned in it. 

§ 9. — The question How? refers usually to a theory, — -the 
question what f to a definition : we mistake both for phy* 
sical inquiries. 

" That the principle which thinks and is within us, should in 
vain ask itself what constitutes thought, is a contradiction/' 
says D'Alembert, "which, even in the pride of our reasoning, 
cannot fail to confound us." 

§ 10. — D'Alembert was inquiring after the verbal significa- 
tion of the word thought, and he could devise no satisfactory 
definition. If he wished to know what thoughts are, independ- 
ently of language, nothing can be more easy than to discover. 
They are what we experience. What is whiteness ? The name 
of a certain sight ; for instance, the colour which you discover 
in snow. Much perplexity is, however, experienced when you 
seek the verbal meaning of whiteness. We may parody the 
Words of D'Alembert, and say of whiteness, " that the princi- 
ple which sees whiteness and is within us, should in vain ask 
itself what constitutes whiteness, is a contradiction which in 
the pride of our reasoning cannot fail to confound us." But 
what do we wish to effect ? We wish to employ some words 
that shall not merely designate the phenomena to which the 
word whiteness refers, but we wish to convert whiteness into 

11 



242 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE, [PART IT, 

words. We may as well be surprised when we cannot trans- 
mute sunbeams into gold, as when we cannot transmute white- 
ness into words. Whiteness is a sight, and words possess no 
affinity to it : — words are sounds, and they cannot be converted 
into whiteness. 



§ 11. — Every existence is its own best interpreter, and its 

only physical revealer. 

This asking what is whiteness, what is thought, &c, pro- 
ceeds on the supposition that whiteness, &c., is not itself, but 
something else. Now, in all cases, whiteness or thought, &c, 
is itself. Words can refer us to the existences which we name 
whiteness, but words can effect no more : — they cannot become 
whiteness. 

§ 12. — The verbal meaning of a word is usually founded on 
some theory. 

What is magnetism, aurora borealis, attraction, gravity, &c. I 
To answer these questions sensibly is to refer us to what our 
senses reveal ; but such answers are rarely given and rarely 
expected. The querist seeks usually the verbal meaning of 
magnetism, attraction, &c, and without the slighest suspicion 
that his investigations are verbal. The verbal answer is a defi- 
nition founded on some theory. I object not to it, and it may 
be useful ; but I wish \o discriminate between the verbal an- 
swer and the sensible, that men may not seem to disagree, 
where perhaps they merely misunderstand each other: — that 
they may not waste their efforts on verbal disquisitions, when 
they wish to. obtain knowledge of the external universe, 

§ 13. — The process which deems words the ultimate objects of 
inquiry, may, like all other verbal processes, be continued 
without end. 

What is conscience, hope, faith, courage ? The natural 
meaning is what we can discover by our consciousness, while 
the verbal meaning is such a definition as approved authority 



1ECT. XXII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 243 

shall have imposed : for instance, " conscience is the monitor 
within us, — the internal man, — the principle which regulates 
our moral conduct, &c." Like every other verbal process, this, 
also, may be continued in infinitum : thus, What is conscience ? 
The moral sense. What is the moral sense ? A. And what 
is A ? B. What is B ? The process admits of no end, for 
the last answer is as questionable as the first. 



244 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV, 



LECTURE XXIII. 

IN ALL INQUIRIES WHICH RELATE TO THE SENSIBLE UNIVERSE, 
WE MUST DISCRIMINATE THE SENSE TO WHOSE INFORMATION 
THE INQUIRY REFERS. 

§ 1 . — Distance names a sight and a feel ; hence the duplicity 
of asking whether seeing can inform us of distance. 

Can seeing inform us of distance ? Do you mean the sight 
distance, or the feel ? The moment we thus discriminate the 
information to which we refer, the question about distance loses 
its interest. Seeing cannot inform us of the feel distance, any- 
more than feeling can inform us of the sight distance. We 
are playing a game of bo-peep when we discourse of distance, 
without discriminating the sense to which we refer. 

§ 2.-r- When we know that the word external is restricted to the 
information of feeling, we shall not wonder that hearing, 
tasting, smelling, and seeing, cannot reveal what we mean 
by the word external. 

A French philosopher attempted to elucidate human know- 
ledge by a statue which is successively endued with the five 
senses. When it possesses no sense but smelling, its con- 
sciousness consists in the perception of odours 3 without any 
knowledge that the odours proceed from an external existence. 
The statue acquires hearing next, but still it obtains no con- 
sciousness that any thing external of itself exists, It acquires 
tasting and vision : — the tastes seem to be nothing but such as 
we occasionally experience when we complain of having a 
bitter taste in our mouths. They are accompanied with no 
extrinsick connexions. Vision also presented nothing but a 
succession of sights which passed internally before the mind, 



X.ECT. XXIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 245 

like images painted on it. Finally, the statue obtained the 
sense of feeling. Then, for the first time, it learnt the exis- 
tence of external objects. It found that its pedestal was exter- 
nal, the floor was external, &c. 

§ 3. — The mystery vanishes when we discriminate the sense 
to whose phenomena the philosopher refers for a signification 
of the word external. External names feels, hence the statue 
possessed no acquaintance with external till he acquired the 
sense of feeling. The statue possessed no acquaintance with 
heat also, and pain, till it acquired the sense of feeling; but 
this intelligence is not enumerated among the mysteries of the 
case, because heat and pain are known to name feels only. 
External seems different. The word names usually sights as 
well as feels. The French philosopher restricted its significa- 
tion to the phenomena of feeling. When we know this, we 
need no statues to teach us that if we possess no sense of feel- 
ing, we shall be acquainted with none of its information 

§ 4. — Above and below name sights ; hence, hearing cannot 
inform us in relation to either above or below. 

Another philosopher tells us that though we believe hearing 
can designate the place from which a sound proceeds, yet the 
ear is indebted for this intelligence to experience, without which 
hearing cannot tell whether a sound proceeds from above us or 
below, &c. 

§ 5. — I agree with this philosopher, but his doctrine is but 
little mysterious if you discriminate the senses to whose phe- 
nomena we refer by the words above us and below. Above is 
the name of a sight and a feel. Below is also a sight and a 
feel ; hence, hearing cannot inform us of either above or below. 
Hearing cannot perform the office of seeing or feeling. 



246 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IT. 



§ 6. — Before we can answer whether colour is connected with 
external objects, we must know the sense to which the word 
connected is intended to refer. 

Professor Stewart says, "a few moments' reflection must 
satisfy any one that the sensation of colour can reside in the 
mind only ; yet our constant bias is to connect colour with 
external objects." 

§ 7. — Before we altercate, we must discriminate the sense to 
whose information we refer for the meaning of the word con- 
nected. If we mean the feel connected, (the feel produced by 
the links of a chain,) nothing is more puerile than to assert that 
colour is not connected with external objects. Colour is a 
sight ; hence, it cannot produce the feel to which we refer by 
the word connected. Colour exhibits the sight connected, 
which is the only connexion that is applicable to colours. 

§ 8. — Colour is not spread over the surface of bodies when we 
refer to feeling for the signification of the phrase ; but 
colour is spread over the surface of bodies when we refer to 
seeing for the signification of the phrase. 

" But," continues Mr. Stewart, " our natural bias is to con- 
ceive white, blue, and yellow, which exist in the mind only, as 
something spread over the surface of bodies." 

Let Mr. Stewart tell us to what sense he refers. He will 
admit that oil and paint can be spread over the surface of 
bodies, and this elucidates the whole matter. He is referring 
to the feel " spread over the surface." But when we say 
colour is spread over the surface of bodies, we allude to the 
sight spread and the sight bodies. To say colour is not spread 
over bodies, (meaning thereby the information of feeling,) is to 
quibble : — though such a use of language was not intended by 
Professor Stewart. He was misled by not knowing the cha- 
meleon character of words. 



I.ECT. XXIII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 247 



§ 9. — Before we can tell whether greenness is in grass, we 
must know the sense to which the word is intended to refer. 

When I look at grass, is greenness in the grass 1 No, says 
Professor Stewart. But to what sense does he refer for the 
signification of the word in ? The answer to this question set- 
tles the controversy. He refers to the information of feeling, 
as when I say my hand is in my pocket. But the feel in is not 
applicable to colour. Greenness is in grass when we refer to 
the sight in and the sight grass, and these alone are pertinent to 
colour. 

§ 10. — Before we can answer the question that inquires 
where colour is situated, we must decide on the sense to 
which the word " ivhere" shall refer for signification. 

But where in truth is colour situated ? Before the question 
can be answered, you must decide on the sense to which where 
shall refer. If you mean the feel where, colour is nowhere; 
but if you mean the sight where, you will find no difficulty in 
designating where colour exists. 

§11 . — When I place my hand on grass, I may say colour is 
not here. Nothing is here but a certain texture of parts. But 
I refer to the sense of feeling. Feeling is not pertinent to 
colour. Feeling possesses no cognizance over it. The here 
which relates to colour is a sight. You may therefore place 
your hand on grass, and say colour is here ; provided you refer 
to seeing for the meaning of the expression. 

| 12. — Before we can answer whether sweetness is in sugar, 
we must ascertain the sense to which the word in is intended 
to refer. 

" Nothing is in sugar," says Locke, " but a certain texture 
of parts, which are so formed as to produce on our organs of 
taste the sensation of sweetness. Sweetness itself is not in 
sugar." But to what sense does Locke refer for the significa- 



248 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV. 

tion of in ? If he refers to feeling, sweetness of course is not 
in sugar. No man believes that he can feel sweetness in sugar. 
Sweetness is in sugar when we refer to the sense of tasting for 
the signification of the word in, and no other sense possesses 
any cognizance over the subject. 

§ 13. — The senses alone can answer questions which relate to 
the external universe, and we must designate the sense to 
whose authority we are appealing. 

When I smell a rose, is the fragrance in the rose or in my 
mind, &c. ? Suppose we ask the senses. They alone can 
answer the question. What says feeling? He can feel all 
that is in the rose, but he will aver that he cannot feel fra- 
grance. He can feel nothing in the rose but texture, substance, 
figure, &c. What says seeing ? It can see every thing that is 
truly in the rose, but it cannot see any thing like fragrance. 
We may with no better result ask tasting and hearing. They 
will severally affirm that they can taste and hear all that is in 
the rose, but they can find no fragrance. When, however, we 
ask smelling, it can discover fragrance in the rose. The in 
must refer to the information of this sense. To ask whether 
fragrance is in the rose, meaning the feel in, the sight in, &c, 
is to talk absurdly. 



LECT. XXIV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 249 



LECTURE XXIV. 

WE INTERPRET THE INFORMATION OF OUR SENSES BY WORDS, 
INSTEAD OF INTERPRETING WORDS BY THE INFORMATION 
OF OUR SENSES. 

§ 1. — The sensible signification of a word is as vaiious as the 
objects to which the word is applied. 

Creation is immense ; still, the names of created objects form 
the one use to which language is appropriated. Every feeling, 
every desire, every action, can be recorded by language. No 
event is so eccentrick, no imagination so wild, no situation so 
peculiar, but language can publish it. To effect these innu- 
merable appliances we possess but a few thousand words : — 
hence, every word must possess a multitude of meanings. 

Nothing is more definite than colours ; still, in the applica- 
tion of language to them, we shall find that every word is 
employed diversely. White is applied to snow, to paper, to. 
the glass of our windows, to our skin, to the floor of this room, 
to the walls, to light, air, water, and to silver. 

§ 2. — Instead of interpreting words by sensible information, 
we interpret sensible information by words. 

The versatility of language produces no embarrassment in 
the ordinary concerns of life. When a man tells us that the 
floor of our room is white, we look at the floor and interpret 
the word white by what we discover in the floor ; but in specu- 
lation we reverse the mode of interpretation : — instead of 
examining the floor to ascertain the meaning of the word white, 
we investigate the word white to ascertain the colour of the 
floor. 

32 



250 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IT. 



§ 3. — We mistake verbal criticism for an investigation of 

nature. 

My hand is in my glove, the moon is in the sky, hardness is 
in iron, heat is in the fire, sweetness is in sugar, colour is in 
grass. The word in is employed differently in each of the 
above cases. When I say my hand is in my glove, the in 
names a feel ; when I say the moon is in the sky,- the in names 
a sight ; and when I say heat is in the fire, the in names a feel 
which is different from the feel to which I refer when I say my 
hand is in my glove. A perfect language should perhaps not 
use one word to express so many different sensible revelations. 
It should possess a separate word for each. Such, however, is 
not the nature of our language. We apply a word to numerous 
cases which we deem homogeneous or analogous. Practically, 
no evil arises, for we interpret the word by the sensible revela- 
tion to which it is applied, — deeming Caesar at one moment a 
dog, and at another moment a Roman emperor. In specula- 
tion, however, we interpret the natural existence by its name. 
If I say heat is in fire, you will estimate the meaning of the 
word in by perhaps what you allude to when you say your 
hand is in your glove ; hence, you will deny that heat is in the 
fire. You are thus investigating the meaning of the word in, 
to determine the relation which heat bears to fire ; instead of 
examining heat and fire to ascertain the meaning of the word in. 

§ 4. — "A few moments' reflection," says Professor Stewart, 
" must satisfy any one that the sensation of colour resides in 
the mind only ; yet our constant bias is to connect colour with 
external objects." Suppose, then, a man should assert that the 
colour of baize is connected with the baize, must I interpret his 
assertion by what I discover in the baize and colour ? No, 
says speculation. What you discover in them must be sub- 
jected to the meaning of the word connected ; and when you 
find that the colour and the baize exhibit phenomena that are 
different from what the word connected is applied to in some 
other cases, (the links of a chain, for instance,) you must say 
that the colour and the baize are not connected. We thus 



LECT, XXIV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 251 

interpret the information of our senses by words, instead of 
interpreting words by the information of our senses. 

§ 5. — Again, we say iron is hard, and the hardness is in the 
iron. Must I interpret these assertions by what I discover 
when I touch iron 1 No, says speculation ; you must estimate 
what you discover when you touch iron by the meaning of the 
word in ; and when you find that the iron and hardness produce 
feelings that are different from what the word in is applied to 
in some other cases, (as when you say your hand is in your 
glove,) you must say that hardness is not in iron. 

§ 6. — Again, when we apply a spark to a mass of gunpow- 
der which explodes, we say that the explosion is caused by the 
spark. The spark is the cause, and the explosion is the effect. 
We say, also, that a connexion exists between the cause and 
the effect. But must I interpret the meaning of the word con- 
nexion by what I thus discover in the spark and explosion ? 
No, says speculation ; what you discover in the spark and ex- 
plosion you must subordinate to the meaning of the word con- 
nexion; and when you find that the spark and the explosion 
exhibit appearances that are different from what the word con- 
nexion is applied to in some other cases, (the links of a chain, 
for instance,) you must say that the spark and the explosion 
are not connected: — " they are only associated together," says 
Hume. " One succeeds the other, but they are not connected." 

§ 7. — To interpret nature by language causes frequently much 
amazement. 

A thread passes through the eye of a needle ; a bullet passes 
through a board ; light and colours pass through solid crystal ; 
sound passes through a block of stone ; electricity passes 
through a bar of iron ; a thought passes through the mind ; a 
pain passes through our head ; a bird passes through the air ; 
and perspiration passes through the pores of your hand. These 
expressions refer to diverse existences, though they possess a 
sufficient analogy or homogeneity to make the phrase "pass 
through" applicable to them all. Practically, we interpret each 



252 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE.. [PART IT. 

application by the phenomenon to which it refers. This inter- 
pretation leaves nature as boundlessly diverse as our senses 
declare it to be. Speculation, however, interprets each phe- 
nomenon by the phrase " pass through ;" for instance, let the 
passage of a thread through the eye of a needle be selected as 
the only correct " pass through ;" we may then be much amazed 
that light should pass through solid crystal. The exhibition of 
nature we have been familiar with without exciting any sur- 
prise ; but when we interpret it by the phrase " pass through," 
we are amazed. 

§ 8. — Nature is no party to our phraseology. 

Water is fluid, air is fluid, quicksilver, light, blood, electri- 
city, lightning, ether, magnetism, fused iron, are all fluid. The 
word is correctly applied, for they possess the homogeneity 
which justifies the application to them of the word fluid ; but 
we err greatly when in our speculations we interpret by the 
word fluid these various revelations of nature. Nature is no 
party to our names. We are told that God brought every thing 
to Adam that he might name them. The same process con- 
tinues. We may apply the word fluid whenever we discover 
that the name is appropriate ; but we must not afterwards 
interpret the object by the name which we thus attach to it. 
The name must, in every case,, be interpreted by the object to 
which it is attached. 

§ 9. — Much of what is esteemed as profound philosophy is 
nothing hut a disputatious criticism on the meaning of 
words. 

A thought strikes my mind, a project strikes my imagination, 
a sound strikes my ear, a light strikes my eye, an odour strikes 
my olfactory nerves, a stone strikes my hand, the wind strikes 
my face, lightning strikes a house, a hat strikes my fancy, a 
pain strikes my shoulder. These are only a few uses of the 
word strike. We discover in the objects referred to a sufficient 
conformity to make the word strike appropriate to them all; 
but they exist precisely as we discover. Each is peculiar, an^ 



IECT. XXIV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 253 

might have been designated by a separate word, if so much 
nicety of discrimination had been deemed desirable. In specu- 
lation, however, the sameness of their name, and the difference 
in their nature, produce difficulties. We select one of the 
cases, and deem it a peculiarly correct exposition of the mean- 
ing of strike, and then decide by it that light does not properly 
strike the eye, a thought does not strictly strike my mind, &c. 
I object not to this verbal criticism, but I wish to show that it 
is verbal. It affects the meaning of the word strike, but it 
affects not the phenomena to which I refer when I say light 
strikes my eye, and a thought strikes my mind. These exist 
precisely as I discover ; and whether I apply to them or not 
the word strike may concern the propriety of my phraseology, 
but not the character of natural revelations, 

§ 10. — We resort to language to explain the information of 
our senses, instead of resorting to our senses to explain the 
meaning of ivords. 

" Some of the ablest philosophers in Europe are now satis- 
fied," says Professor Stewart, " not only that no evidence exists 
of motion's being produced by the contact of two bodies, but 
that proof may be given of the impossibility of such a pro- 
cess:— hence they conclude that the effects which are com- 
monly imputed to impulse, arise from a power of repulsion, 
extending to a small and imperceptible distance around every 
element of matter." 

$11 . — If John says that two billiard balls weigh a pound, 
and Thomas insists that they weigh only ten ounces, the balls 
can be placed in counterpoise with a pound weight, and the 
controversy be decided. But we cannot contrast thus the 
motion of the balls with the word impulse, because the word 
impulse possesses no fixed sensible signification, but conforms 
to the sensible object to which it is applied. 



254 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV. 

§ 12. — Professor Stewart, however, employs the words im- 
pulse and repulsion as John employs the pound weight. John 
asks the pound weight to tell him the specifick gravity of the 
two balls ; and Mr. Stewart asks the words impulse and repul- 
sion to explain what he is beholding in the movement of the 
balls. 



LECT. XXV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 255 



LECTURE XXV. 

[A FRAGMENT.] 

WE OFTEN MISTAKE THE INAPPLICABILITY OF A WORD FOR AN 
ANOMALY OF NATURE. 

§ 1. — The word demonstrate may be restricted in its significa- 
tion so as to be inapplicable to colours. 

Locke says, "We cannot demonstrate the equality of two 
degrees of whiteness, because we have no standard to measure 
them by. The only help we have are our senses, which in this 
point fail us." 

§ 2. — The difficulty is not imputed to the inapplicability of 
the word demonstrate, but to our senses, which fail in affording 
us the requisite help by which to measure the degrees of white- 
ness. What kind of demonstration does Locke allude to ? To 
counting, as when we measure the equi-numerance of two bags 
of dollars ; or to weighing, as when we ascertain the equi-pon- 
derance of two bars of lead ; or to measuring, as when we 
determine the extension of two lines. But the word demon- 
strate, when thus restricted in its signification, is not applicable 
to colours. We may as well say that we cannot taste the 
difference between two degrees of whiteness. Taste is not 
applicable to whiteness. The difficulty is not in our senses, 
but in the inapplicability of the language. Our senses do not, 
as Locke alleges, fail us in our attempt to demonstrate the 
equality of two degrees of whiteness ; but the word demon- 
strate (as Locke restricted its meaning) is inapplicable to 
whiteness. 



256 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE, [PART IT. 



§ S.— The word connexion may be restricted in its signification 
§o as to be inapplicable to the relation which is discoverable 
between a cause arid its effect. 

Hume insisted that no visible connexion exists between any 
cause and its effect. We apply a spark to gunpowder, and an 
explosion ensues ; " but," says Hume, " we see not that an 
explosion is necessarily connected with a spark." Cause and 
effect seem, therefore, either to possess some anomaly, which 
prevents us from seeing that cause and effect are connected, or 
they are not connected. But what connexion does Hume allude 
to as not visible in cause and effect ? He alludes to the con- 
nexion which is exhibited by the links of a chain. Such a 
connexion is inapplicable to the nature of cause and effect. 
Cause and effect exist successively. One only can be present ; 
the other must be either future or past. To talk, therefore, of 
seeing a cause and its effect connected, as we see the connexion 
of two links, is to talk of seeing at the same time either a pre- 
sent sight and a past, or a present and a future. The phrase 
of Hume, when thus limited, (and thus Hume evidently limited 
it,) is inapplicable to cause and effect. 

§ 4. — The inapplicability is still more glaring when we refer 
to phenomena which are invisible : for instance, when we say 
that we can see no visible connexion between sugar and sweet- 
ness. Here, in addition to the former difficulties, we are 
required by Hume to see sweetness — to see a taste. The 
taste is one link of the chain, and sugar the other link. To see 
them connected we must see them both : — see a taste ! 



§ 5. — The word connexion may be so restricted in its significa- 
tion, as to be inapplicable to the relation which exists between- 
colour and the body ivhich is coloured. 

Professor Stuart says, " a few moments' reflection must 
satisfy any one that the sensation of colour can reside in the 
mind only; yet our constant bias is to connect colour with 
external objects." 1 



LECT. XXV.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 257 

§ 6. — The green which seems in connexion with this baize, 
is therefore not connected with it. The difficulty is not im- 
puted to the word connexion, but to some delusion of our 
senses. What connexion does Mr. Stewart allude to ? The 
connexion which exists between the links of a chain. It is a 
feel. But the word connexion, when restricted to a feel, can- 
not be applicable to colours, for we cannot feel a sight. Our 
constant bias is to connect green with the baize, not by the feel 
connexion, but by the sight. To limit the connexion to a feel 
is to make the word connexion inapplicable to colour; hence 
the difficulty of Mr. Stewart is not in our senses nor in nature, 
but in the inapplicability of the word connexion. 

§ 7. — The word know may be so restricted in its significa- 
tion as to become inapplicable to a large portion of our 
knowledge. 

" Though we suppose generally that external objects cause 
in other persons similar sights, tastes, feels, sounds, and smells, 
to those which they produce in us, yet," say metaphysicians, 
" no man can know this with certainty." 

§ 8. — Apparently a mysterious contradiction exists in the 
above position ; for while we wonder at the alleged want of 
knowledge, we are confident of a practical possession of it. 
The difficulty proceeds from the restriction which metaphysi- 
cians place on the phrase " to know." The controversy relates 
not to nature, but to language. What we experience will not 
be affected by the phrases which we apply to it. If the phrase 
"to know" shall be restricted to the information of my own 
feeling, I cannot know how fire affects your hand ; for I cannot 
feel with your hand. W T hen, however, I assert that I know 
how fire affects your hand, the assertion does not include that I 
can feel the operation of fire on you. The assertion refers 
simply to my experience, conjoined with various facts and 
expressions that I derive from you. 

33 



258 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV. 



§ 9. — Whether we can be certain that we shall die, depends on 
the meaning of the word certain. The question relates to 
language and not to nature. 

I once heard a divine contend in his sermon, that " except on 
the authority of revelation, no individual can be certain that he 
shall die." The zest of the proposition consists in the restric- 
tion which the preacher places on the word certain. Whether 
we shall or not employ the word certain will not affect our sen- 
sible knowledge. A deaf mute knows in relation to death all 
that we know, provided his intercourse with men has yielded 
him the experience which we possess. To apply to our knowl- 
edge the word certain, or to withhold the application, relates to 
the propriety of our phraseology, and not to nature. We are 
so accustomed to subordinate nature to language, that probably 
not one of the preacher's auditors discovered that the sermon 
was nothing but a disquisition on the meaning of the word cer- 
tain. The decision of the controversy, however, (either against 
the certainty of death or in favour,) would practically change 
neither their feelings nor conduct; for how perplexed soever 
we may become by verbal speculations, the realities of nature 
control our conduct. The preacher restricted the use of the 
word certain to events which were already consummated ; 
hence the future death of an individual is not a certainty. 



LECT. XXVI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 259 



LECTURE XXVI. 

[A FRAGMENT.] 

WE MISTAKE THE UNINTELLIGIBILITY OF A WORD OR PROPO- 
SITION FOR A MYSTERY OF- NATURE. 

§ 1 .—Language permits us to frame propositions which possess 
a very ambiguous meaning, and sometimes no meaning. 

" Of the substance and essence of either mind or matter we 
know nothing, and can know nothing."* 

Here, then, are two words, which are assumed to name 
something, but we know not what. If, however, we neither 
know what they name, nor can know, we neither know nor can 
know that they name any thing. Our knowledge of their sig- 
nificance cannot exceed our knowledge of what they signify. 
But because language permits us to thus frame propositions 
which are unintelligible, we attribute the defect to a mystery of 
nature, though it is truly nothing but a misuse of language. 

§ 2. — The meaning of a word cannot exceed what man can 
know in relation to it. 

" We are conscious of various internal movements and ener- 
gies to which we give the names of faculties, sensations, ideas, 
passions, emotions, &c. ; but of the nature and qualities of that 
by which these movements and energies are produced, and in 
which they inhere, we neither know any thing, nor can know."t 

$ 3. — The above quotation assumes, as a part, I suppose, of 
some theory, that something exists by which certain of our move- 

* Ogilvie's Essays on Human Knowledge, page 52. f Ibid. 



260 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV, 

ments and energies are produced, and in which they inhere ; 
but what this something is we neither know nor can know. 
This word, then, this something, possesses confessedly but 
little meaning, if any. It is a sound of our own creating, the 
mere breath of our own body, and dependent for its significa- 
tion on the discoverable revelations to which it refers. Its 
meaning, therefore, cannot exceed what we know, and our 
knowledge of it, we admit, is nothing ; still, . its intelligibility 
and insignificance are not imputed to the word as a defect, but 
to nature as a mystery. 

§ 4. — We impute to nature the ambiguities and unintelligi- 
bility which are produced by a misuse of language. 

" By the mediation of our corporal organs," says the same 
writer, " we receive an almost infinite number and variety of 
impressions from material objects; but of the nature and qualities 
of the material objects from which these impressions proceed, 
and what the objects are, independently of these impressions* 
we neither know any thing nor can know any thing." 

§ 5. — The above quotation contains the same errour as the 
former. If we know not what the nature and qualities are, we 
know not that our language is significant. Its significance can- 
not exceed our knowledge, for it is the creature of our inven- 
tion, possessing originally no more signification than the wind 
which whistles over the strings of an ^Eolian harp. We, how- 
ever, impute the unintelligibility of the proposition to nature, 
instead of knowing that it proceeds from the use of words in 
an ambiguous sense, and even without any definite sense. 

§ 6. — " The most gigantic intellect," says the same author, 
" when it attempts to grasp a subject which lies beyond the 
boundaries of human knowledge, (in the region not of the 
unknown merely, but of the unknowable,) is as impotent as the 
most ordinary mind." 

§ 7. — The proposition premises of the word subject, that its 
meaning shall not be unknown merely, but unknowable ; and 



LECT. XXVI.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 261 

the complaint is not that language permits us to make so 
unmeaning a propositisn, but that nature prevents us from 
understanding it. The word subject is a mere sound, indebted 
for all its signification to the natural revelations to which it may- 
refer ; yet, after admitting that it refers to nothing, and hence 
admitting its insignificance, we allege that nature is very mys- 
terious in not enabling us to comprehend the meaning of the 
word. 



262 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV. 



LECTURE XXVII. 

[A FRAGMENT.] 

LANGUAGE CANNOT BE MADE SIGNIFICANT BEYOND OUR 
KNOWLEDGE. 

$ \.— The limitation of meaning which pertains to words, we 
mistake for a limitation of our faculties. 

In certain essays on human knowledge,* published some years 
since, the author asserts, that " he will endeavour to explain the 
extent to which mind and matter are knowable." 

§ 2. — The phrase " mind and matter" is not deemed to be 
limited in its signification by our knowledge ; but our knowl- 
edge is deemed capable of teaching us a certain portion only 
of the signification of the phrase : — a defect in our senses and 
understanding precluding us from knowing more than a portion 
of its meaning. What a curious inversion of the truth ! What 
a strange exaltation of language above nature ! Instead of 
teaching us " the extent to which mind and matter are knowa- 
ble," — the writer can teach us nothing but the extent to which 
the phrase "mind and matter" is significant language. Our 
knowledge gives to the phrase all the signification which it 
possesses ; and when we arrive at the extent of our knowledge, 
the phrase is at the extent of its signification. Beyond the 
extent of our knowledge, the phrase is as insignificant as the 
wind which whistles through our window. 



* Ogilvie's Essays, page 55. 



LECT. XXVII.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 263 



§ 3. — We mistake the unintelligibility and insignificance of 
certain propositions for mysteries of nature. 

The same writer continues: — "As through consciousness 
we become acquainted with certain intellectual energies only, 
without possessing any consciousness of the substance in which 
they inhere, or of the ties by which they are connected, all 
speculations concerning such substances and ties must be within 
the regions of the unknowable, and necessarily abortive." 

§ 4. — The writer tests not his proposition by the revelations 
of nature to discover the signification of the " substances and 
ties" of which he speaks ; but he tests nature by those words ; 
and discovering nothing which answers to the exigency of their 
requirement, he concludes that nature is mysteriously evading 
his shrewd examinations. 

§ 5. — Such propositions are formed by the employment of 
words divested of their sensible signification. 

The words " substance, inhere, and ties," are names of sights, 
sounds, tastes, feels, and smells, or at least of some revelation 
of nature. A substance, &c, that cannot be discovered by our 
senses, is as insignificant as an elephant that cannot be dis- 
covered by our senses ; both words are equally vacated sounds, 
when separated from the sensible revelations which give them 
significancy. 

§ 6. — Language can be made as capacious as our expe- 
rience, but not more capacious. I may insist that nature is so 
exceedingly subtile, that I cannot taste the flavour of moonshine, 
nor smell its odour ; nor can I feel the texture of the particles 
of which it is composed. If I catch a handful of them, they 
elude my grasp before I can convey them into a dark room for 
closer inspection. This is exceedingly wonderful to a person 
who sees not that the whole is created by divesting of signifi- 
cation the words flavour odour, texture, particles, &c, and 



264 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV. 

uniting the nullified words into syntactical propositions. Lan- 
guage permits us to frame unmeaning and unintelligible propo- 
sitions, but we impute their unintelligibility and insignificance 
not to a misuse of language, but to a mysteriousness of nature, 
and an inefficiency of our intellect. 



LECT. XXVIII.] A TREATISE Oir LANGUAGE* 265 



LECTURE XXVIII. 

[A FRAGMENT.] 

WE MISTAKE THE INAPPLICABILITY OF A PROCESS OF LANGUAGE 
FOR A DEFECT OR MYSTERY OF NATURE. 

§ 1; — Whether we can or not prove the existence of an exter* 
nal universe, or our own existence, depends on the applica* 
bility to it of the verbal processes of logick> and not on 
nature. 

Perhaps nothing which philosophy has debated is so myste* 
rious as the assertion that we cannot prove the existence of an 
external universe ;— *- nay, that we cannot prove the existence of 
ourselves. Descartes supposed that he had accomplished the 
proof of his own existence at least. He says, " I think, there* 
fore I am." " But," replies Doctor Reid, " how do you prove 
that you think ? If you assume this without proof, you may as 
well assume your own existence without proof." Doctor Reid 
admits that to prove these facts is impossible, but that we are 
bound to believe them, for they constitute a part of our con* 
sciousness. "But," says a subsequent writer, "how do you 
^rove the existence of the consciousness of which you speak V* 

§ 2.— You perceive the difficulty lies in our inability to prove 
the facts adverted to. That the facts exist, all men are practi* 
cally satisfied ; but that the facts are incapable of proof, is the 
marvel and the fallacy. We can prove that the three angles of 
a triangle are equal to two right angles ; but we cannot prove 
that a triangle actually exists in the external universe, or that 
we exist who employ the process of mathematicks. "What a 
marvel ! 

12 



266 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IT, 

§ 3. — But what is the proof about which we are thus soli- 
citous, and the absence of which is deemed so portentous and 
mysterious ? It is a process of language ; — an artificial process 
of human ingenuity. I have heretofore stated* that argumenta- 
tion and logick consist in showing certain verbal conclusions 
to be admitted by certain verbal premises. All demonstration 
and proof proceed on the same principle. You must admit 
certain verbal axioms and definitions ; and when the proposition 
is shown to be embraced verbally by these admissions, the 
proposition is demonstrated. The process is verbal. It be- 
longs to language, and apart from language the process pos- 
sesses neither signification nor application. To say, therefore, 
that we cannot demonstrate our own existence, without first 
assuming it, is merely to state the nature of the process. The 
sensible realities of creation are not implicated or affected by 
our ability or inability to apply to them our verbal processes of 
demonstration and proof, any more than the air is implicated in 
our ability or inability to represent it with colours on canvass. 
Instead, however, of knowing that our inability to prove verbally 
our own existence, (without first assuming it,) is a property 
of language, we suppose it to be a curiosity of nature, or a 
portentous mystery. I am acquainted with no errour which 
shows so monstrously as the above, the superiority that lan- 
guage has acquired over the realities of the universe ; and the 
curious inversion by which we estimate nature by language, 
instead of estimating language by nature. 

* Lecture XIII 



LECT. XXIX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 267 



LECTURE XXIX. 

[A FRAGMENT.] 

WE MISTAKE WORDS FOR THE ULTIMATE OBJECTS OF KNOWL- 
EDGE, WHILE THE REVELATIONS OF NATURE ARE PROPERLY 
THE ULTIMATE OBJECTS. 

§ 1. — The phenomena of life are ultimate to the verbal ques- 
tion which inquires whether I live, though we mistakenly 
suppose the question to be ultimate to the phenomena. 

" I think," said Descartes, " therefore I exist." He invented 
this enthymeme for the purpose of proving his own existence ; 
for we must assume nothing. " Every thing must be proved," 
he said. The phenomena of life, of which he was momen- 
tarily conscious, and the phenomena of thinking, were not 
deemed the ultimate objects of human knowledge. He sought 
for something beyond ; and by his reposing when he arrived at 
the above enthymeme, we can discover what he deemed the 
ultimate objects of human knowledge : — some process of words. 

§ 2. — The revelations of nature are ultimate to the verbal 
question which inquires after the existence of an external 
universe ; though we mistakenly suppose the question to be 
ultimate to the revelations. 

Some philosophers have affirmed the non-existence of an 
external universe; "for," say they,, "we know nothing of 
external existences but what our senses inform us of, and pos- 
sibly nothing exists but the sensations. Whether the senses 
are actually excited by extrinsic objects or not, will," say these 
philosophers, " affect not our knowledge, so long as we expe- 
rience the sensations." The revelations of nature are, you 



268 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IT, 

perceive, not satisfactory to these philosophers. They are 
seeking for some ulterior knowledge, for some knowledge more 
authoritative and explanatory. In truth they are inverting the 
order of nature. They are seeking words as the ultimate 
objects of human knowledge, while the revelations of nature 
are deemed secondary and debatable. 

§ 3. — How mysterious is death! What can it be? Our 
senses in vain yield us their information; we are not accus- 
tomed to deem the revelations of nature as the ultimate objects 
of our knowledge. We are accustomed to deem language the 
ultimate object, and thus most perversely subordinate creation 
to an artificial contrivance of our own. As Descartes was not 
satisfied with the reality of his own existence, till language had 
echoed it in an enthymeme, so we are not satisfied with the 
revelations of nature in relation to death, till language vents on 
it some sentences. 

$ 4. — Deaf mutes are exempt from the fallacy of estimating 
words as the ultimate objects of knowledge. 

Deaf mutes are exempt from the errour of seeking some 
information ulterior to the revelations of nature ; while we, 
from infancy to the termination of life, are led by the forms of 
language and by the unsuspected labours of speculative philo- 
sophy, to deem words the ultimate objects of knowledge. 
What is death ? what is an earthquake ? what is the sun ? A 
man would be laughed at, who should answer these questions 
by referring us to nature's revelations in relation to them. We 
desire something ulterior; some theory, or a process of lan- 
guage in some other form. 

§ 5. — What supports this candle ? The candlestick. And 
what supports the candlestick? The table. And what sup- 
ports the table ? The floor. And what supports the house ? 
The earth. And what supports the earth? We are arrived 
at the end of our sensible knowledge, but this prevents us not 
from pursuing the process verbally, for we know not that the 
revelations of nature are the ultimate objects of our knowledge. 



LECT. XXIX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 269 

A verbal termination of the inquiry is far more congenial to our 
habits of philosophising than the termination which is produced 
by nature. 



§ 6. — We constantly mistake some verbal proposition for the 
ultimate object of our knowledge. 

We are told by some philosophers, that consciousness proves 
that we exist. The proposition is deemed ultimate to the con- 
sciousness, while, in truth, the proposition possesses no signifi- 
cation but the consciousness. To feel pain, proves that I am a 
sentient being. The feeling seems to be secondary to the pro- 
position, though it constitutes its ultimate meaning. To taste 
sugar proves it to be sweet. The taste seems to prove not 
itself, but something ultimate, which we announce by the word 
sweet. You perceive that we constantly deem some verbal 
proposition to be the ultimate object of our knowledge. All 
our controversies in relation to the existence of an external 
universe are founded on this errour. No disagreement exists 
about the revelations of nature, but we deem them not the 
ultimate objects of our knowledge ; hence we dispute whether 
or not these revelations prove an external universe. The pro- 
position is deemed the most consequential part of our knowl- 
edge, while it is the mere mode in which we speak of the 
revelations of nature. 

\ 7. — " I cannot help believing," says Doctor ' Reid, " that 
those things really happened, which I remember to have hap- 
pened." The verbal proposition, " I cannot help believing," 
&c, seems to be something ultimate from the natural revela- 
tion which constitutes the remembrance ; but all that is con- 
sequential, and belongs to the realities of nature, is the 
revelation. We may speak of it as we please. We may say 
with Doctor Reid, that we cannot help believing, &c. ; or we 
may say that we can help believing ; but so far as the realities 
of nature are implicated, the revelation of nature is our ultimate 
knowledge on the subject, though we perversely mistake the 
phrase as the ultimate knowledge, and exhaust ourselves in 
verbal controversy. 



270 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IT. 

§ 8. — The sun is now believed to be a body of fire. At one 
time it was called a heated stone. Some say it is inhabited, 
and others that it is uninhabitable. The controversy involved 
at no time any disagreement as to the discoverable revelations 
of nature. Were these deemed the ultimate objects of our 
knowledge, we should readily discover the unimportance of such 
controversies ; but when we deem our verbal propositions the 
ultimate objects of our knowledge, the errour yields a sufficient 
reason for controversy. 

$ 9. — Does the earth revolve on its axis from the west to the 
east, or do the heavens revolve on their axis from the east to 
the west ? Does either event occur, or is the motion a mere 
contrivance of our own to reconcile the discoverable phenomena 
to our notions of causation? We may estimate these ques- 
tions as very important, and they may be important so far as 
they affect our theories ; but nature is not necessarily connected 
with them. All that truly belongs to nature are her discovera- 
ble revelations ; and if these are alike to all men, we should not 
mistake our verbal controversies for a disagreement about the 
realities of nature. We, however, are not accustomed to thus 
subordinate language to nature. We deem language the ulti- 
mate boundaries of our knowledge ; hence the undue impor- 
tance which we attach to our verbal disagreements. 

$ 10. — What is the colour of sunshine? Nearly every per- 
son will perceive that our ultimate knowledge in this matter is 
what we discover in nature, and that the name by which we 
designate the colour is subordinate to the natural revelation. 
Some persons, however, may, even in this case, not discover 
the errour which I am striving to illustrate. They may dispute 
whether the colour is white or orient, &c, and deem the deci- 
sion the ultimate object of our knowledge. 

§ 11. — Some of the ablest philosophers of Europe are now 
satisfied, that motion proceeds in no case from any impulse 
produced by the contact of two bodies ; such a contact is 
impossible, owing to the repulsive nature of material bodies. 
The motion is produced by repulsion, which makes bodies 



M2CT. XXIX.] A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 271 

rebound from each other before they arrive at an actual contact. 
The philosophers who make this discovery receive from nature 
the same revelation as is received by other philosophers who 
admit the actual contact of bodies. No disagreement exists as 
to the sensible revelations of nature, but the revelations are not 
deemed the ultimate objects of knowledge ; hence the contro- 
versy in relation to the language that is to be employed. 

§ 12. — When we deem words the ultimate objects of our 
knowledge, we invert the order of nature. 

I may not have succeeded in becoming intelligible in the 
above remarks ; but to me no speculative position is more 
important, and no truth more evident, than that we mistakenly 
invert the order of nature, and deem words the ultimate objects 
of our knowledge, while we ought to deem the revelations of 
nature our ultimate knowledge. Are all things material, or are 
some spiritual ? How virulently would this proposition be 
debated ! If the controversy involves any question of fact as 
to what the Scriptures have declared on the subject, or as to 
any phenomenon internal or external which we experience, the 
controversy may be important; but if the disputants are ac- 
quainted with the same revelations of nature, and the same 
revelations of Scripture, their controversy relates not to the 
ultimate objects of human knowledge, but to the employment 
of words. To a deaf mute the controversy would be as un- 
meaning as the chattering of magpies is unmeaning to us. 
Nature evolves before us her phenomena. These are impor- 
tant, whether we note them or not, or discuss them or not ; and 
we are acted on and act in this evolution of realities without 
the slightest deference to our speculations, though in our dis- 
cussions we seem to suppose that the evolutions of nature are 
controlled by our verbal decisions. Our errour is analogous to 
the halhicinations of the philosopher referred to in Johnson's 
Rasselas, who believed that the winds and rains were controlled 
by his diagrams and volitions ; and that a mistake in his calcu- 
lations would either deluge the earth, or involve it in tempests. 
Doctor Franklin has left us the soliloquies of an ephemera. It 
notices the gradual declination of the sun, and asserts that phi- 



272 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IT. 

losophers are generally agreed that a period will arrive, when 
the sun will entirely disappear at the western extremity of the 
horizon, and that the whole race of the ephemera will be de- 
stroyed with even the mighty leaf on which so many nations 
exist, &c. Our speculations are like these. So far as our 
speculations refer to the revelations of creation, they are signifi- 
cant of the realities of creation; but we must estimate these 
revelations as the ultimate objects of our knowledge of creation. 
Every animal may possibly possess a language and a train of 
verbal speculations ; but nature moves forward and flows onward 
with no more natural connection or affinity to the language of 
one animal than to the language of another. The bird that 
carols in a forest, and the philosopher who speculates in a 
closet, are alike employed in the formation and combination of 
sounds with which the realities of the universe possess no 
affinity or connexion but such as is produced by an artificial 
reference of the sounds to the realities referred to. 



A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. 273 



CONCLUSION 



§ 1.— Instead of contemplating creation through the medium 
of words, men should contemplate creation itself. They should 
estimate what their senses disclose, and the phenomena which 
they experience internally, as a dumb mute estimates them. 
Language was designed for a communication between man and 
man, and not for a communication between nature and man. 
In passing through a forest, I may see something which I never 
saw before. I can communicate the sight to you in no way 
but by words ; while the sight itself is the only correct reve- 
lation to myself. We are not in the practice of thus con- 
templating sleep, death, magnetism, light, fire, men, women, 
thoughts, sun, moon, anger, hope, and all the other phenomena 
which our senses disclose, or our internal consciousness reveals. 
We talk to ourselves about them, and thus contemplate them 
through the defective medium of language which was designed 
as a mere substitute for our senses, &c, in our intercourse with 
one another. 

§ 2. — By the above errour we interpret creation by words, 
and, as a consequence thereof, we fail from seeing that words 
should be interpreted by the revelations of creation. When 
you utter a number of sentences to tell me what death is, I 
know not that your sentences must be interpreted by the reve- 
lations of my senses, &c. ; and that, apart from these revela- 
tions, the words are sensibly insignificant. 

§ 3. — To illustrate the foregoing positions is the design of 
all that I have stated. Theoretically, the positions may be ad- 
mitted by every person, and may be deemed already known ; 
but practically they are violated by all men, and understood by 
none. That language will eventually receive the interpreta- 



274 A TREATISE ON LANGUAGE. [PART IV. 

tion for which I contend, I cannot doubt ; but that I possess 
the ability to make existing errours perceived even, I much 
question. 

§ 4. — I might have inserted an indefinite number of further 
illustrations of the great principles which I desire to inculcate ; 
but if what I have already presented shall be understood in the 
manner in which I understand them, enough has been said to 
excite towards the subject the efforts of men to whom Provi- 
dence has awarded more leisure and more talents than I pos- 
sess ; while, if I shall not be understood, I have expended 
already too much effort on a fruitless undertaking. 

$ 5.— -Our misapprehension of the nature of language has 
occasioned a greater waste of time, and effort, and genius, than 
all the other mistakes and delusions with which humanity has 
been afflicted. It has retarded immeasurably our physical 
- knowledge of every kind, and vitiated what it could not retard. 
The misapprehension exists still in unmitigated virulence ; and 
though metaphysicks, a rank branch of the errour, is fallen into 
disrepute, it is abandoned like a mine which will not repay the 
expense of working, rather than like a process of mining which 
we have discovered to be constitutionally incapable of producing 
gold. 

§ 6. — Finally, while I dismiss this book, I entreat for it a 
close investigation at least. It is the painful production of 
much labour ; and though I am aware of the delusion of self- 
love, I cannot believe that the principles which I have endea- 
voured to display are wholly undeserving of publick attention. 



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JFMHIILiS ©IF gwgn® HHilj 

Being Authentic Narratives of Remarkable and Affecting Disasters 
upon the Deep* 

With Illustrations of the Power and Goodness of God in wonderful 
Preservations. 



In one vol. 18rno., with a Portrait, &c, 
SKETCHES OF THE LIVES OF DISTINGUISHED FEMALES. 

Written for Girls, with a view to their Mental and Moral Improvement. 

By an American Lady. 



In one vol. 18mo., with Engravings, 

OR THE YOUNG TRAVELLER FROM OHIO. 
By MRS. PHELPS (formerly MRS. LINCOLN). 



In one vol. 18mo., with Engravings, 

And other Tales* 

By a Clergyman. 
For the use of Youth. 



Recently Published by Harper tf Brother*. 13 

In one vol. 18mo., with Engravings, 
THE ©BKIAEflEKJT© ®a§©©^E!i3E[B>a 
By MRS. HUGHS. 



In one vol. 18mo., with Engravings, 

or, Uncle Philip's Conversations with the Children about 
the Truth of the Christian Religion. 



In one vol. 18mo., with Engravings, 
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THE HISTORY OF VIRGINIA. 



In one vol. 18mo., with numerous Illustrative Engravings, 
THE AMERICAN FOREST; 

or» Uncle Philip's Conversations with the Children about the 

Qlxzzs of America. 



In 2 vols. 18mo., with Engravings, 
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In one vol. 18mo., 
By B. B. THATCHER, Esq. 



In 2 vols. 18mo., with numerous Illustrative Engravings, 
Uncle Philip's Conversations with the Children about the 

TO)ale jfis^tx^ artfj $olar Seas. 



In 2 vols. 18mo., 
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THE H0©T®BY ©IF KJEW-HAEaPSHOBEo 



In 2 vols. 18mo., 
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2Thc ftistnvs of ifcassac&usetts. 



In 13 vols. 12mo. with elegant Engravings in each volume 

THE W®BK§ ®P KJOB© ©HEBW7@®® B 

Being the only uniform Edition ever published in the United States. 



14 Interesting Works 

In 10 vols. 12mo., with beautiful Engravings, 
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By MARIA EDGEWORTH. 



In 5 vols. 12mo., with Illustrations, 

THE JUVENILE WORKS OF MARIA EDGEWORTH. 

CONTAINING 

22arl» Wessons, &osamotrtr, jFranfc, J£arr# aim SLuqj, &c. tec. 



l, 2, 3, 4. SALMAGUNDI ; or, the Whim-whams and Opinions of Launcelot 

Langstaff, Esq., and others. 
5, 6. LETTERS FROM THE SOUTH. By a Northern Man. 
7, 8. KONINGSMARKE ; or, Old Times in the New World. 

[The remainder of Mr. Paulding'6 works are nearly ready for publication.] 



In 7 vols. 12mo., one vol. 8vo., and 2 vols. 8vo., with Illustrations, 



Uniform Edition, with Illustrations. 

1. PELHAM ; or, the Adventures of a Gentleman. 

2. THE DISOWNED. A Tale. 

3. THE LAST DAYS OF POMPEII. 

4. PAUL CLIFFORD. 

5. RIENZI, the Last of the Tribunes. 

6. EUGENE ARAM. A Tale. 

7. DEVEREUX. 

8. THE STUDENT ; a Series of Papers. 

By the same Author, 

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Complete in 4 vols. 8vo., with Maps, &c, 

THE HISTORY OF THE DECLINE AND FALL OF 

SIH5B 5E®MT^.SS" HMH?HSH a 

By EDWARD GIBBON, Esq. 



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In 3 vols. 8vo., with Engravings, &c, 

THE HISTORY OF 

MI @ ID H II KT 21 W H£ ® IP 31s 

With a View of the Progress of Society, from the Rise of the Modern 

Kingdoms to the Peace of Paris, in 1763. 

By WILLIAM RUSSELL, LL.D.: 

And a Continuation of the History to the Present Time, 

By WILLIAM JONES, Esq. 

With Annotations by an American. 



In one vol. 8vo., with a Portrait and Engravings, 

THE HISTORY OF THE 

DISCOVERY AND SETTLEMENT OF AMERICA. 

By WILLIAM ROBERTSON, D.D. 

With an Account of his Life and Writings. 

To which are added, Questions for the Examination of Students. 

By JOHN FROST, A.M. 



In one vol. 8vo., with Engravings, 
THE HISTORY OF THE REIGN OF THE 

With a View of the Progress of Society in Europe, from the Subversion 

of the Roman Empire to the Beginning of 

the Sixteenth Century. 

By WILLIAM ROBERTSON, D.D. 

To which are added Questions for the Examination of Students. 

By JOHN FROST, A.M. 



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>9 

During the Reigns of Queen Mary and of King James VI., till his Ac- 
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With a Review of the Scottish History previous to that Period. 

INCLUDING 

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With an Appendix, containing Observations on the Civil Policy, the 

Laws and Judicial Proceedings, the Arts, the Sciences 

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By WILLIAM ROBERTSON, D.D. 



16 Interesting Works 

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A COMPENDIOUS HISTORY OF ITALY. 

Translated from the original Italian. 
By NATHANIEL GREENE. 



In one vol. 12mo., 
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To which is added, a Particular Account of the Celebration of said 
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By MYER MOSES. 



In one vol. 8vo. 

or, the Border Warfare of New- York, during the Revolution. 
By W. W. CAMPBELL. 



In 2 vols. 8vo., with a Portrait, 
LETTERS AND JOURNALS OF 

a © 2a ® m^ m.© w* 

With Notices of his Life. 
By THOMAS MOORE, Esq. 



In 2 vols. 12mo., with a Portrait, 
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By WILLIAM ROBERTS, Esq. 



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comprising Memoirs and Anecdotes of the most Remarkable Persons 
of every Age and Nation. 

By HENRY WILSON. 



In one vol. 18mo., with a Portrait, 

traits of t|)e STea^artg ; 

being a Memoir of George R. T. Hewes, 

one of the Last of its Survivors. 

With a History of that Transaction ; Reminiscences of the Massacre, 

and the Siege, and other Stories of old Times. 

By a Bostonian. 



Published by Harper <f Brothers. 17 

In one vol. 18mo., 

MATTHIAS AND HIS IMPOSTURES: 

or, the Progress of Fanaticism. 

Illustrated in the Extraordinary Case of Robert Matthews, and some 

of his Forerunners and Disciples. 

By WILLIAM L. STONE. 



In one vol. 8vo., with Portraits, 

Revised Edition. 

To which is added, a Valuable Collection of American Anecdotes, 
original and selected. 



In one vol. 12mo., 
By Mrs. LEE. 



In one vol. 18mo., with a Portrait, 
THE LIFE OF 



3 

President of the United States of America. 
By WILLIAM COBBETT, M.P. 



In one vol. 12mo., 

AKlll©®®^!!© ©F ©QB WAtWlH ©©©Wo 
By the ETTR1CK SHEPHERD. 

With a Life of the Author. 
By S. DEWITT BLOODGOOD, Esq. 



In one vol. 12mo., 
SKETCHES AND ECCENTRICITIES OF 



In one vol. 8vo>, with several Engravings, 

VOYAGE OF THE UNITED STATES FRIGATE POTOMAC. 

under the command of Com. John Downes, 

during the Circumnavigation of the Globe, in the years 1831, 1832, 1833, and 1834 ; 

Incxuding a particular Account of the Engagement at Quallah-Battoo 

on the Coast of Sumatra ; with all the official documents 

relating to the same. 

By J.N. REYNOLDS- 



18 Interesting Works 

In 4 vols. 12mo M with Engravings, 

during a Residence of nearly Eight Years in the Society and Sand- 
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By WILLIAM ELLIS. 



In 3 vols. 12mo., with vignette Embellishments, 

"s* si ^ a km ^ j? a a a 

By a Young American. 



In 2 vols. 12mo., with Engravings, 

SPAIN REVISITED. 

By the Author of" A Year in Spain." 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 

•EDO AMH31iE©AM ES¥ HM^E^SfSDo 
By the Author of " A Year in Spain." 



In 2 vols. 12mo 
Sije ©10 SSTorla anti tfte Weto j 
Being a Journal of Observations and Reflections made on a Visit to Eu- 
rope in the Years 1833-4. 

By the Rev. ORVILLE DEWEY. 



In 2 vols. 12mo. 



A PILGRIMAGE BEYOND THE SEA. 



In one vol. 12mo., 

1831—1835. 
By CALVIN COLTON. 



In one vol. 8vo., with Engravings, 

PARIS AND THE PARISIANS 

In 1835. 

By FRANCES TROLLOPE. 



Published by Harper cf Brothers. 19 

In one vol. 8vo., 

A NARRATIVE OF FOUR VOYAGES TO THE SOUTH SEA, 

NORTH AND SOUTH PACIFIC OCEAN, CHINESE SEA, 

ETHIOPIC AND SOUTHERN ATLANTIC 

OCEAN, AND ANTARCTIC OCEAN. 

From the year 1822 to 1831. 

Comprising an Account of some valuable Discoveries, including the 

Massacre Islands, where thirteen of the Author's Crew were 

massacred and eaten by Cannibals. 

By Capt. BENJAMIN MORRELL, Jun. 



In 2 vols. 12mo. 

A NARRATIVE OF THE 

mmV IT® THE AE01B[1©AKI ©HM©H!©„ 

By the Deputation from the Congregational Union of England and Wales. 

By ANDREW REED, D.D. and JAMES MATHESON, D.D. 



In one vol. 18mo., 

sum ^©wi&a^'ipj, 

or Pocket Manual for Travellers on the Hudson River, the Western 

Canal and Stage Road to Niagara Falls, down Lake Ontario and 

the St. Lawrence to Montreal and Quebec. 

Comprising also the Routes to Lebanon, Ballston, and Saratoga Springs. 



In one vol. 12mo., with Maps and Engravings, 
TRAVELS AND RESEARCHES IN CAFFRARIA ; 

describing the Character, Customs, and Moral Condition of the Tribes 

inhabiting that portion of Southern Africa. 

By STEPHEN KAY. 



In one vol. 12mo., , 

Narratibe of a Uogage to toe <Soutf) Seas, 

in 1829-1831. 

By ABBY JANE MORRELL, 

who accompanied her husband, Capt. Benjamin Morrell, Jun., of the Schooner 

Antarctic. 



20 Interesting Works 

In 2 vols. 8vo., with Maps and Engravings, 

OR, THE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENTS CONNECTED, 

in the History of the Jews and neighbouring Nations ; 

from the Declension of the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah to the time of Chust. 

By HUMPHREY PRIDE AUX, D.D., Dean of Norwich. 

New Edition. 

To which is prefixed the Life of the Author, containing some Letters 

which he wrote in defence and Illustration of certain 

Parts of his Connexions. 



In one vol. 8vo., 

from the Earliest Ages to the Reformation. 
By Rev. GEORGE WADDINGTON, M.A. 



In 3 vols. 8vo., with a Portrait, 

THE WORKS OF THE REV. ROBERT HALL, A.IV.. 

With a brief Memoir of his Life, by Dr. Gregory, and Observations on 
his Character as a Preacher, by the Rev. John Foster. 

Edited by OLINTHUS GREGORY, LL.D. 



In one vol. 8vo., 

Containing an Historical Account of the Persons; a Geographical and 
Historical Account of Places ; a Literal, Critical, and System- 
atical Description of other Objects, whether Natural, 
Artificial, Civil, Religious, or Military; and 
an Explanation of the Appellative 
Terms mentioned in the Old 
and New Testaments. 
By the Rev. JOHN BROWN, of Haddington. 

With a Life of the Author, and an Essay on the Evidences of 

Christianity. 



In one vol. 18mo., with a Portrait, 
By CHARLES WEBB LE BAS, A.M. 



Published by Harper fy Brothers. 21 

In one vol. 18mo., with a Portrait, 

TOE ILOFg ®F AB©K1[I3Q©[X1®[F> ©BAKUfflgBa 
By CHARLES WEBB LE BAS, A.M. 



In one vol. 18mo., 

THE CONSISTENCY OF THE WHOLE SCHEME OF 
REVELATION 

with Itself and with Human Reason. 
By PHILIP NICHOLAS SHUTTLEWORTH, D.D. 



In 2 vols. 18mo., with Engravings, 

LUTHER AND THE LUTHERAN REFORMATION. 
By Rev. JOHN SCOTT, A.M. 



In 3 vols. 18mo., with Engravings, 
HISTORY OF THE 

By the Rev. EDWARD SMEDLEY. 



In one vol. 12mo., 

THOUGHTS ON THE RELIGIOUS STATE OF THE COUNTRV 

toitj) 3£Uasons for preforms Hfltscopacg. 

By Rev. CALVIN COLTON. 



In one vol. 12mo., 
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TOdU™ ®P THl ©KlKQ^'u'OAKI B[l[La©a®Kla 
derived from the literal fulfilment of Prophecy. 
By the Rev. ALEXANDER KEITH. 



In one vol. 32mo., 

A CONCORDANCE TO THE HOLY SCRIPTURES OF THE OLD 

AND NEW TESTAMENTS. 

By the Rev. JOHN BROWN, of Haddington. 



In one vol. 12mo. f 

or, Extracts selected for the Consolation of Mourners, under the Be- 
reavement of Friends and Relations. 
By a Village Pastor. 



In one vol. 18mo., 

IMS'iFIFISiaS 5F© ABA., 
By Rev. Dr. PISE. 



22 Interesting Works 

In 2 vols. 8vo., 

ByJOPIN MASON GOOD,M.D., F.R.S. 

Improved from the Author's Manuscripts, and by reference to the latest 
Advances in Physiology, Pathology, and Practice. 

By SAMUEL COOPER, M.D. 
With Notes, by A. SIDNEY DOANE, A.M., M.D. 

To which is prefixed, a Sketch of the History of Medicine, from its 
Origin to the Commencement of the Nineteenth Century. 



In one vol. 8vo., with 52 Plates, 

Compiled from the Works of Cutler, Hind, Velpeau, and Blasius 
By A. SIDNEY DOANE, A.M., M.D. 



In one vol, 8vo., with 82 Plates, 

MIDWIFERY ILLUSTRATED. 

By J. P. MAYGRIER, M.D. 

Translated from the French, with Notes. 

By A. SIDNEY DOANE, A.M., M.D. 



In one vol. 8vo. 

3ME£H©©Ey MESIS)II©W3Effi J 

OR, 

MEDICAL DICTIONARY. 

By R. HOOPER, M.D. 

With Additions from American Authors, 

By SAMUEL AKERLY, M.D. 



In one vol. 8vo., 

By S. COOPER, M.D., 

With numerous Notes and Additions, embracing all the Principal 
American Improvements. 
t> M REESE, M.D. 



l^ubttshed by Harper <f- Brothers. 23 

Ja one vol. 12mo., bound in fancy muslin, gilt edges, being the most elegant and the oniy 
perfect edition published in this country of 

THE LIFE AND SURPRISING ADVENTURES OF 

of Yorft, farmer. 

WITH A BIOGRAPHICAL ACCOUNT OF DE FOE. 

Illustrated with fifty cbaracteristic Engravings by Adams. 



THE COMMON SCHOOL LIBRARY. 



In one vol. 8vo., 

5H5E1 B@®IE ©IF SmOTHHo 

By JOHN MASON GOOD, M.D.. F.R.S. 

To which is now prefixed, a Sketch of the Author's Life. 



In one vol. 8vo., 
ESSAYS ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY. 

AND ON THE PRIVATE AND POLITICAL RIGHTS AND OBLIGA 

TIONS OF MANKIND. 

By JONATHAN DYMOND. 

With a Preface, by the Rev. George Bush, M.A. 



In one vol. 12mo., 
By MARIA EDGEWORTH, and by RICHARD LOVELL EDGEWORTH, F.R.S. 



In one vol. 8vo., 

or the Relation which Words bear to Things. 
By A. B. JOHNSON. 



in one vol. 8vo., with numerous Illustrative Engravings, 
THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF SURVEYING ; 

containing all the Instructions requisite for the skilful practice of this art. 

With a new set of accurate Mathematical Tables. 

By ROBERT GIBSON. 

Newly arranged, improved and enlarged, with useful selections, by JiWES Ryan 



24 Interesting Works 

In one vol. 8vo., 
AN ELEMENTARY TREATISE ON MECHANICS. 

Translated from the French of M. Boucharlat. 

With additions and emendations, designed to adapt it to the use of the Cadets of the 

U. S. Military Academy. 

By EDWARD H. COURTENAY. 



In one vol. 48mo., 
2£f)e l&ettcule anU IBocfcet @om:panion; 

OK, 

MINIATURE LEXICON OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 
By LYMAN COBB. 



In one vol. 8vo., 

With copious Illustrations and Explanations, drawn from the best Writers. 
By GEORGE CRABB, M.A. 



In one vol. 18mo., 
SLAVERY IN THE UNITED STATE 

By JAMES K. PAULDING. 



Two volumes in one, 12mo., 

S3PEOII38ffl3S3S?S ©IF "aPEES MJBIL]! ^J&MK 

of the late SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 



In one vol. 12mo., 

Setters, (Eoitbersations, aitii 3kecollecttons 

of the late S. T. COLERIDGE. 



In 2 vols. 12mo., with Illustrative Engravings, 



A General Description of the Empire of China and its Inhabitants. 
By JOHN FRANCIS DAVIS, Esq., F.R.S. 



Published by Harper <f- Brothers. 25 

In 2 vols. 12mo., 

jFrance : Social, JLtterarg, anU political. 
By H. L. BULWER, Esq., M.P. 



In one vol. 12mo., 

or Instructions to Young Married Ladies on the Management of their Households, 
and the Regulation of their Conduct in the various Relations and Duties of 
Married Life. 

By Mrs. W. PARKES. 

With Improvements. 



In one vol. 18mo., with Engravings, 

J®ajor, IBototitUflbtlle i&tlitfa, Secotrt aSrifiaUe, 
to his Old Friend Mr. Dwight, of the New- York Daily Advertiser, 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 

ENPLANE) AKI® THE EK1©[L0©M C 

By E.L. BULWER, Esq., M.P. 



In one vol. 12mo., with a Portrait, 

THE LETTERS OF THE BRITISH SPY, 

By Wm. WIRT, Esq. 
To which is prefixed a Biographical Sketch of the Author. 



In one vol. 18mo., 
DIRECTIONS FOR INVIGORATING AND PROLONGING LIFE 

OK, 

By Wm. KITCHINER, M.D. 



26 Interesting Works 

In one vol. 12mo., 

THE COOK'S ORACLE, AND HOUSEKEEPER'S MANUAL. 

Containing Receipts for Cookery, and Directions for Carving. 

With a complete System of Cookery for Catholic Families. 

By Wm. KITCHINER, M.D. 



In one vol. 16mo., 

M@IE>HIFM AMDHH3KSAM ©©©3231IB1'. 

With a List of Family Medical Receipts, and a Valuable Miscellany. 

By Miss PRUDENCE SMITH. 



In 3 vols. 18rao., 

THE PILAV© ®P PKHULDP Mft@©DKI©[§@<. 

Adapted to Family Reading, and the use of Young Persons. 



In 2 vols. 18mo., 

SPED! MgL&UL&'E'n© W©HtfEi ©IF ^©IIM 3F@IRIQ>o 
With Notes Critical and Explanatory. 



12mo., bound in sheep, 
RICHELIEU : a Tale of France. 2 vols. 
DARN LEY ; or, the Field- of the Cloth of Gold. 2 vols. 
DE L'ORME. 2 vols. 

PHILIP AUGUSTUS ; or, the Brothers in Arms. 2 vols. 
HENRY MASTERTON ; or, the Young Cavalier. 2 vols. 
MARY OF BURGUNDY ; or, the Revolt of Ghent. 2 vols. 
ADVENTURES OF JOHN MARSTON HALL. 2 vols. 
THE GIPSY : a Tale. 2 vols. 

ONE IN A THOUSAND ; or, the Days of Henri Quatre. 
THE STRING OF PEARLS 



Published by Harper § Brothers. 27 



ATALANTIS ; a Story of the Sea. 8vo. 

MARTIN FABER, and other Tales. 2 vols. 12mo. 

GUY RIVERS ; a Tale of Georgia. 2 vols. 12mo. 

THE YEMASSEE : a Romance of Carolina. 2 vols. 12mo. 

THE PARTISAN : a Tale of the Revolution. 2 vols. 12mo. 

MELLICHAMPE : a Legend of the Santee. 2 vols. 12mo. 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 

OR, 

Strtg Years .Since " in America. 
By the Author of " Hope Leslie," &c. 



In one vol. 18mo., 

THE RICH POOR MAN 

AND THE POOR RICH MAN. 

By mt Author of " The Linwoods." 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 

©snu2?i? aired 2lhie c 



In one vol. 12mo., 

TALES OF THE WOODS AND FIELDS. 
By the Author of " Two Old Men's Tales.' 



In one vol. 12mo., 
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In one vol. 12mo., 

TMBSS 1B^9 m W©BS1^RI3© !LQG?! a 
By ELIZABETH ELTON SMITH. 



Interesting Works 



m 

GIL BLAS. With Illustrations by Cruikshank. 2 vols. 12mo. 
RODERICK RANDOM. With Illustrations. 2 vols. 12mo. 
HUMPHRY CLINKER. With Illustrations. 2 vols. 12mo. 



In 2 vols. 12mo., with Illustrations. 
By HENRY FIELDING, Esq. 



In one vol. 12mo., 
By the Rev. Dr. REED, Author of " No Fiction.' 



In one vol. 18mo., 
By Mrs. GILMAN. 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 
By T. S. FAY. Esq. 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 

DREAMS AND REVERIES OF A QUIET MAN, 
By the Author of " Norman Leslie," &c. 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 
ByAINSWORTH, Author of "Rook wood. 



In one vol. 12mo., 

TMl © S IL F=© ® N ® g Kfl N g ® c 
By the Author of " The Lollards." 



In one vol. 12mo., 

S5POIE25ES ©IF ^IMIB ©H^ 

By Capt. MARRYAT. 



Published by Harper % Brothers. 29 

In one vol. 12mo., 

JAPHET IN SEARCH OF A FATHER. 
By the Author of " Stories of the Sea." 



In one vol. 12mo., 
ff IE B IE) (© O 'K 1 @ IE* 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 
By B. D'ISRAELI 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 

THE YOUTH AND MANHOOD OF CYRIL THORNTON. 

By Col. HAMILTON, 

Author of " Peninsular Campaigns." 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 
By T. HOPE, Esq. 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 

STEQS AID)>S r la Jsf iriorlRB S ©IF (9JBJLHI8 W1HLJL1L&MS. 
By W. GODWIN, Esq. 



In 2 vols. 12mo., 
By R. P. WARD. 



In one voL 12mo., 

m©mm a 

By Mrs. STICKNEY. 



In one vol. 12mo., 

LETTERS TO YOUNG LADIES. 
By Mrs. L. H. SIGOURNEY. 



30 Interesting Works 

In one vol. 12mo., 



New Edition with a Vignette Title, designed by Weir and engraved by Cushman. 



Sixth Edition, enlarged, with a Portrait, 
ANT H ® IN*© © A IL ILQD © Th 

ALSO, 

© 3 © HIE ® a 

Upon the same plan, and by the same Editor. 



In one vol. 12mo., complete, with a Portrait of the Author, 
THE WORKS OF HENRY MACKENZIE, 



m one vol. 16mo., with numerous Engravings by Adams, 



In one vol. 12mo., 
STEWART'S ADVENTURES 

In capturing and exposing the great " Western Land Pirate," and his Gang, with the 

Evidence of their Guilt ; also the Trials, Confessions, and Execution of a 

number of Murrell's Associates in the State of Mississippi during 

the Summer of 1835, and the Execution of five Professional 

Gamblers by the Citizens of Vicksburgh, on the 

6th July, 1835. 



THE SMUGGLER. By J. Banim, Esq. 2 vols. 12mo. 

EVELINA; or, The History of a Young Lady's Introduction to the 
World. By Miss Burney. 2 vols. 12mo. 

THE CLUB-BOOK. By James, and Others. 12mo. 

TALES OF GLAUBER-SPA. By Miss Sedgwick, Paulding, &c. 
2 vols. 12mo. 

THE DUTCHMAN'S FIRESIDE. By J. K. Paulding, Esq. 2 vols. 
12mo. 

WESTWARD HO ! By Paulding. 2 vols. 12mo. 

BERNARDO DEL CARPIO. By Montgomery. 12mo. 

AFFECTING SCENES ; being Passages from the Diary of a late 
Physician. 2 vols. 18mo. 

WAVERLEY ; OR, 'TIS SIXTY Y^EARS SINCE. By Sir Walter 
Scott. Revised Edition. 2 vols. 12mo. 

GEORGE BALCOMBE. 2 vols. 12mo. 

LAFITTE. By Ingraham. 2 vols. 12mo. 

ELKSVVATAWA ; or, the Prophet of the West. 2 vols. 12mo. 



Published by Harper cf Brothers. 31 

THE ATLANTIC CLUB-BOOK : being Sketches in Verse and Prose, 

by Various Authors. 2 vols. 12mo. 
ALLEN PRESCOTT. By Mrs. T. Sedgwick. 2 vols. 12mo. 
OUTRE-MER; a Pilgrimage bevond the Sea. By Professor Long- 
fellow. 2 vols. 12mo. 
HERBERT WEND ALL. 2 vols. 12mo. 
PAUL ULRIC. By M. Mattson, Esq. 2 vols. 12mo. 
MIRIAM COFFIN; or, the Whale-Fishermen. 2 vols. 12mo. 
THE KENTUCKIAN IN NEW-YORK. By A Virginian. 2 vols. 

12mo. 
BLACKBEARD ; a Page from the Colonial History of Philadelphia. 

2 vols. 12mo. 
TALES AND SKETCHES, such as they are. By William L. Stone, 

Esq. 2 vols. 12mo. 
TALES AND SKETCHES. By Wm. Leggett. 12mo. 
NOVELLETTES OF A TRAVELLER ; or, Odds and Ends from the 

Knapsack of Thomas Singularity. Edited by H. J. Nott. 2 vols. 

12mo. 
THE SPY. By Cooper. 2 vols. 12mo. 
THE WHIGS OF SCOTLAND ; or, the Last of the Stuarts. An 

Historical Romance. 2 vols. 12mo. 
CONTI THE DISCARDED. By Chorley. 2 vols. 12mo. 
CONTARINI FLEMING. A Psycological Autobiography. By B 

D'Israeli, Esq. 2 vols. 12mo. 
CLOUDESLEY. By Wm. Godwin, Esq. 2 vols. 12mo. 
THE MAYOR OF WTNDGAP. By Banim. 12mo. 
VISITS AND SKETCHES. By Mrs. Jameson. 2 vols. 12mo. 
TUTTI FRUTTI. By the Author of " The Tour of a German Prince." 

12mo. 
THE FROLICS OF PUCK. 2 vols. 12mo. 
MEPHISTOPH1LES IN ENGLAND. 2 vols. 12mo. 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A CHAPERON. Edited by Lady Dacre 

2 vols. 12mo. 
PEERAGE AND PEASANTRY. By Lady Dacre. 2 vols. 12mo. 
MY LIFE. By the Author of " Stories of Waterloo." 2 vols. 12mo. 
WILD SPORTS OF THE WEST. By the Author of "My Life," &c. 

2 vols. 12mo. 
THE LIFE OF A SAILOR. By Captain Chamier. 2 vols. 12mo. 
THE MOST UNFORTUNATE MAN IN THE WORLD. By Capt. 

Chamur. 2 vols. 12mo. 



32 Interesting Works 

THE POLES IN RUSSIA. By the Author of " The Unfortunate 
Man," &c. 2 vols. 12mo. 

THE SORROWS OF A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 2 vols. 12mo. 

MELMOTH, THE WANDERER. By C. R.Maturin. 2 vols. 12mo. 

VALERIUS. By J. G. Lockhart. 2 vols. 12mo. 

THE OUTLAW. By Mrs. S. C. Hall. 2 vols. 12mo. 

HENRI QUATRE ; or, The Days of the League. 2 vols. 12mo. 

TWO OLD MEN'S TALES. The " Deformed," and " The Admiral's 

Daughter." 2 vols. 12mo. 
SPECULATION. By Miss Pardoe. 2 vols. 12mo. 
FRANK ORBY. By One of the Eleven. 2 vols. I2mo. 
THE HEIRESS. 2 vols. 12mo. 

FRANCE IN 1829-'30. By Lady Morgan. 2 vols. 12mo. 
ROMANCE OF HISTORY: FRANCE. By Leitch Ritchie, Esq. 

2 vols. 12mo. 
THE SEPARATION. By Lady Bury. 2 vols. 12mo. 
ROMANCE OF HISTORY: ITALY. By C. Macfarlane. 2 vols. 

12mo. 
THE REFUGEE IN AMERICA. By Mrs. F. Trollope. 2 vols. 

12mo. 
THE SKETCH-BOOK OF FASHION. By Mrs. Gore. 2 vols. 12mo. 
VILLAGE BELLES. 2 vols. 12mo. 

ZOHRAB THE HOSTAGE. By J. Morier, Esq. 2 vols. 12mo. 
CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE. By Sir Walter Scott. 

2 vols. 12mo. 
COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS. By the Author of " Waverley," &c. 

2 vols. 12mo. 
THE FALSE STEP ; and THE SISTERS. 2 vols. 12mo. 
ADVENTURES OF A YOUNGER SON. By E. Trelawney, Esq. 

2 vols. 12mo. 
MAXWELL. By Theodore Hook. 2 vols. 12mo. 
THE ABBESS. By Mrs. Trollope. 2 vols. 12mo. 
SOUTHENNAN. By J. Galt, Esq. 2 vols. 12mo. 
THE NEW FOREST. By Horace Smith, Esq. 2 vols. I2mo. 
TALES OF THE EARLY AGES. By the Author of " The New 

Forest," &c. 2 vols. 12mo. ^ 

THE ENGLISH AT HOME. 2 vols. 12mo. 
THE OXONIANS. 2 vols. 12mo. 
FOSCARINI; or, The Patrician of Venice. 2 vols. 12mo. 




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